


Siren of the Sea (Part I)

by SonicoSenpai



Series: Siren of the Sea [1]
Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler, Lamento -BEYOND THE VOID-
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Bathing/Washing, Blow Jobs, Ciel makes a cameo appearance in chapter 1, Exposition, Fantasy, First Kiss, First Meetings, First Time Blow Jobs, I have it out for Konoe, Intimidation, M/M, Nipple Piercings, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Non-Consensual Spanking, Non-Consensual Touching, Nudity, Piercing, Pirates, Porn With Plot, Public Blow Jobs, Public Claiming, Public Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Slavery, Violence, alternative universe, because Rai has a fucking eyepatch, because pirates, it seemed like a good idea at the time, smut with plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-03-29 17:51:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 39,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13932192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SonicoSenpai/pseuds/SonicoSenpai
Summary: In this AU, Konoe finds himself abducted by a pirate slaving ship, captained by the terrifying Captain Rai. His ability to sing is inadvertently discovered when trying to help a sick young fellow kitten Ciel, who hasn’t dealt with the capture well. His comforting Siren’s melody was heard throughout the ship and catches the captain’s eye. Will he be able to hold his own, against this fearsome seafaring devil?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Murderous Joy - Captain Rai](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/391778) by foxyladycpz. 

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Konoe is below deck, trying to care for a fellow sick captive, young Ciel, who is ailing. In order to help this young kitten, he grooms him, snuggles up next to him to share body heat, and hums a tune. The tune is what catches the attention of the Captain of the Murderous Joy.

The space below deck is dark and cramped when I awake. I feel my body swaying gently, even though it is firmly planted on the dirty floor, which smells of days old vomit, shit, and piss. I know I’m not alone, but the cramped quarters are strangely quiet, the wood of the ship creaking slowly, a foreign sound in my ears.

When we first arrived, I tried keeping track of the days since I’d been abducted, but the light that peeked through the cracks in the ceiling was so slim I lost interest, along with the food in my belly. We were provided with several waste buckets, and we made good use of them. None of the prisoners had been to sea before, and we were fairly far out—at least, I assumed we were from the swell of the ship.

I keep my tail curled around my body as I stay huddled in my small corner. Several cats had been removed from these quarters already: those who complained the loudest, for example, or those who had drawn claws or dared to bare fangs at their captors. I was tempted to defend myself, of course. But what could I do? We were hopelessly outnumbered, and tremendously outsized.

These seafaring cats were rough, tall, brawny, scarred creatures, some nearly twice my stature. I’m from the land-locked village of Karou, which, as it turns out, is quite isolated from the world. I’ve never seen cats this size. I’d been trained to fight and defend my territory, but I’d been easily disarmed in the forest, easily outnumbered when these pirates plundered my camp.

I’d drifted off to sleep—meaning only to rest my wearing legs on a trip to the city of Ransen. I’d gotten myself turned around on the road, and found the coast of Sisa instead. I was sure I was alone. It turns out I was mistaken—as were the dozen other captives currently sharing this tiny cell. Gods only knew where we were headed, and what they wanted with us. I didn’t have any skills that could be put to use. So making myself as invisible as possible seemed the best option.

In the group, there is a young cat who is very ill. He has been unable to retain any stale bread or even water. I’m afraid he may die here, and there is nothing I can do for him. He is frightened, and he stopped speaking yesterday. His skin is very pale, his eyes a watery aquamarine, and his hair, ears, and tail look gray in the light, but are probably raven when clean and groomed.

I’m tempted to call for help, but I know if I do, I may be taken away like the others. And none of them have returned. We heard screams, but no one knows what became of them. I put my hand between the shivering kitten’s ears—they look so soft in the dark—and he feels hot to my touch. He doesn’t flinch, merely quivering beneath my fingers.

I whisper to the older captive next to us—probably in his 30s, I guess, “This young kitten is very ill. I think he has a fever. He has finally stopped vomiting, but I think it’s because there’s nothing left in his stomach.”

The older cat glances at me for a second and replies, “Well, that’s more food for the rest of us, isn’t it?”

I’m shocked by his callousness, and I don’t know how to respond. I feel anger welling up inside.

“What, are _you_ going to do something about it? Call for help? Don’t you know what happened to those other cats?”

“What happened to them?” I ask. I have no idea what happened to them, so I wonder how he can be so sure.

“This is a pirate slaving ship. We are to be sold off as slaves. If we don’t behave, we will be beaten, raped, tortured, and thrown overboard. If that’s what you want, why don’t you try to get help for him?”

Fear creeps up in my belly, and I feel a shudder run through me. I saw the size of the cats who captured us, and the idea of them putting their hands on me revolts me. But then, I turn my head to the small kitten next to me, watching his messy ears twitch in discomfort. He didn’t want this, and he can’t even be fifteen.

I curl my body around his—I’m freezing in this damp air, too, but sharing body heat will help—and I fluff out the fur on my tail, wrapping it around us both. His whole body is shaking, and I feel so sorry for him. I tentatively try grooming his ears with my tongue, and I feel his body relax and melt against mine.

Even if this won’t help him in the long run, giving him just a little comfort, a little companionship, even if I’m afraid, too, is the least I can do. I whisper directly into his ear, “It’s OK. You’re going to be all right. I know you’re afraid. But I’m here with you. I won’t leave you. I’ll do my best to protect you. It’s going to be OK.”

And slowly, I can feel the tension leaking out of his body.

I hear the older cat huff and say, “Fine, you get sick then, too. That’ll just mean more food for me.”

“Don’t listen to him,” I whisper, very softly. And I feel the young kitten purring. “I’m Konoe. What’s your name?”

I haven’t heard him say a single word within the past day, so I don’t expect him to speak. He surprises me when he softly replies with his name. “I’m Ciel.”

“What a nice name.” I can feel my own purr in the back of my throat, and I start to hum. I’ve been a lone cat for many years—since my mother passed when I was only a kitten—and I remember many songs she sang to comfort me. I always sing when I’m alone, be it to comfort myself, to make myself feel better when I’m ill, or just to feel less alone. She loved my voice, and I’ve continued singing to this day.

My song is different than voiced songs—it’s hard to explain. I feel an emotion—in this case, I want to comfort Ciel, hoping he feels better, and I want him to know I am here for him. And with those emotions, a song emerges from my body. As I’m wrapped around him, I imagine that I am glowing, tendrils of soft light reaching from my body like slim fingers out to his. And this is what the melody of the music does, into his ears, mind, and body, and Ciel finds it soothing.

I’ve rarely had the chance to try this on another cat. In fact, this is the _first_ time. I’m pleased to see Ciel relax even further, and I watch him close his eyes in peaceful slumber. The melody is soft, gentle and soothing, and it soothes me, as well. Strangely, I realize that the imagined glowing light from my song shows that there are dozens and dozens of tick marks scratched onto the walls, as if someone was here for a very long time.

What I don’t expect, however, is within the first five minutes of my song, that the door to the lower cabin bursts open with a crash. I’m shocked out of my reverie, and Ciel freezes in my arms. It’s one of our captors—this one hugely heavy set and brawny, with an orange tiger pattern on his long, thick tail and ears, dark hair and a beard. He throws open the cage door when he enters. He looks older to me, and has a loud booming voice.

“What was that singing? Who is responsible for that noise? The Captain wants to see the cat who was singing that tune, right this minute!”

Filled with terror, I didn’t realize I’d been doing anything offensive. The other captives in the cell cower on the floor, and the older guy, the one who wants my share of the food, points at me, saying, “It’s _that_ one in the corner. He has some complaints, too.”

My jaw drops as the tiger grabs the scruff of my neck and pulls me to my feet.

“Complaints, eh?” I notice he’s missing a hand. One of his hands has been replaced by a hook, which he proceeds to run down the side of my cheek. “You think you can run this ship better, do you?”

I open my mouth, and I’m shaking so much I can’t even produce a single word.

“How did we miss this one down here? You’re quite a sweet thing.” The tiger turns back to that tattletale. “Damn, are you _sure_ he was the one singing?”

“Y-yessir. He was complaining that smaller c-cat had been ill and not well taken care of.”

 _What a liar!_ I’m shaking with rage as well as fear, but the words won’t come. I try again—the cat grabbing me by my neck is easily twice my size. I kick out my legs, struggling to be put down, accidentally kicking him in the shin.

“Oi? Hey now! You’re coming with me!” And he hoists me over his shoulder like a sack of flour, over his shoulder, patting my ass with his hand much more affectionately than I’m comfortable with. _That’s enough_ —and I find my voice.

“Put me go! Let down! Stop! Get off your hands on me!” And my words come out all fucked up.

The tiger cat roars with laughter, rubbing my ass again. “My gods, are we gonna have fun with you! What, did I make the little kitty angry? You poor little thing! Your tail is all fluffy! Look at that!”

He grabs my tail, and _I hate it_ —I have a crooked tail, and he makes a beeline straight for it.

“Aww, it’s a lucky tail! You know, Captain has a weak spot for crooked tails, you know!” He licks it, and I can’t help shivering—and not just from the overpowering sensation running through me. I’m filled with fear of what’s coming next. I desperately fight the tears I feel in the corner of my eyes, especially when I feel him walking toward the door.

“Ciel!” I shout. “It’s all right, Ciel. You’re going to be all right!”

I can feel the tiger chuckling underneath my body as he walks up the stairs. “Oh, yeah, I’m sure your little friend will be quite all right. If I were you, I’d be more worried about myself...”

Another bolt of fear shoots through me. He carries me up a flight of stairs and down a narrow hallway. It’s hard to catch my bearings since I’m upside down, but I think we end up toward the front if the ship. He knocks at a door, and I hear a deep voice from behind the door, “Enter!”

Unceremoniously, I’m dumped on the floor, and I hit my head on a built-in cabinet on the way down.

This must be the Captain’s quarters. I look around in amazement. It’s like something out of a fairytale. The dark wood cabinets are meticulously maintained, with lots of storage space. I see a fine uniform coat hanging beside the door, decorated with what look like official battle medals from Sisa’s navy— _why would the captain of a pirate ship have an official Sisa uniform?_ On my right, I see a large, sumptuous bed covered in navy and burgundy bedding, animal furs, and more lush pillows than I’ve ever seen, and drapes that can close it off from the rest of the cabin. On the left, it’s the command center, a table covered in maps, a sextant, other navigational tools, a handheld telescope, and measurement devices I don’t recognize. Several chairs surround the table, and at one, I clearly identify the Captain.

I know he’s the Captain, even though his hat is on the table, carelessly off to the side. He’s armed with both a dagger and a longsword, which, even though he’s alone in his chambers, he hasn’t removed from his person. I can tell he’s in charge. And not just from his black eyepatch.

He is easily as tall as the brawny tiger, but leaner and younger. His skin is almost pale enough to be called white. He has hair down to his waist, falling in wispy silver layers, not daring to get in his way. The remaining eye in his chiseled, handsome face shines an icy, pale blue, surrounded by sumptuous thick lashes, and misses nothing. His ears are small and rounded, and cock forward, showing interest in me.

 _Why would he be concerned with my song?_ I wonder. In his presence, I feel several things simultaneously. First, from my position on the floor, I feel very afraid for bringing myself to his attention. Second, I’m absolutely captivated, and I cannot look away. While he may be fearsome, he’s incredibly  _attractive_. I find myself gawking.

“What is this?” Even his voice is gorgeous. “What is this piece of filth doing on the floor, dirtying up my cabin?”

“Apologies, Captain,” the tiger speaks boldly. “At your request, this is the source of the song you heard.”

“That song was produced by this... filthy runt?” The Captain is out of his chair. In two strides of those long, muscular legs (though I’m trying not to look) and a shake of a long, bushy white tail, he’s at my side, grabbing my chin. I don’t want to meet his eyes—I’m terrified of this man—but he jerks my face up to meet his gaze.

That cool blue eye searches my face. “Hmm. I wonder. He might clean up well. I’m surprised at his size. There’s nothing to him.”

He looks at the tiger. “Yet I know what I heard. He is the Siren. Be sure to keep the others away from him—this one belongs to _me_. See to it that he’s cleaned up, and bring him back to my quarters.”

The terror in my body is morphing into complete panic. I try to pull my face away from the iron grip, but I can’t. Several small fearful noises pass my lips, and I try to swallow them down. I whisper, “ _No_.”

The handsome, fine features in front of me soften a little at my resistance. “Are you frightened? Ah, perhaps you should be. However...” and the hand drops from my chin, down to my throat, where it takes a firm hold, taking my breath away. “I don’t see that you have much say in this matter. And besides...” The hand wanders down a little more, flattening out over my chest and stomach, and suddenly violently palming my groin, where it grabs me quite firmly.

I hear a strange, lewd sigh—a mix between a yelp and a purr—coming from my mouth. No one has ever touched me there, or like this before. My dick responds instantly to his touch, blood from my head rushing straight into that area, leaving me lightheaded and my lips numb.

His face is so close to mine that I feel his lips brushing my ear. “I’ve been looking for you for a long time. And look?” Another squeeze down there, making me gasp. “You came right to me! You quit literally fell right into the palm of my hand. I think we should have some fun together, don’t you?”

I feel a small puff of breath from his mouth into my ear, and in shock, I shrink as far into the corner as I can. He laughs heartily, saying, “You’re not doing the legend of the Siren justice, kitten, wearing your virginity so openly on your face like that!”

Turning to the tiger, he repeats, “ _Mine_. And only mine. Make sure that is understood, or there will be consequences.”

He gives my ears a playful rub, and kisses me, full on the mouth, to my shock and surprise. _Who the hell does he think he is?_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Konoe is taken away by the tiger cat to get cleaned up, and it goes... about as well as things can go on a pirate ship.
> 
> Triggers include: Non-consensual touching, bathing, and spanking, plus intimidation.

The tiger grabs me by the neck, dragging me out of the Captain’s quarters. I am still shaking like a leaf after my interaction with the Captain. _All joking aside, shouldn’t I be equally as afraid of the tiger as I am of the silver-haired cat? Yet, the look in that pale blue eye chilled me to the bone when he implied that thing about ownership. Ownership of my person. And why? What could he want with me?_

As I’m being dragged down the hallway— _I can walk, I’m not an object!_ —I look up at the tiger, and consider asking him. I work hard at forming the words, since my mouth has gone completely dry.

“Wh-what…?” My first attempt isn’t a success. I struggle with his fingers at my throat and try again. “What does he want with me? What is he talking about? What’s a Siren?”

The tiger is surprised to hear me talking, and glances down at me, not entirely without interest. A gruff noise comes from his lungs, and he doesn’t slow his steps. I’m guessing we are about midship as we enter a galley. It’s a kitchen.

“Meh, it couldn’t hurt to tell you, I suppose. You’ve never heard of the Siren of the sea? Where is your hometown, kitten?” His voice doesn’t sound as gruff as it was earlier. He places me on a bench, next to a large workspace.

The workspace looks oversized—at least for me, anyway. _Maybe this is his workspace?_ There are pots and pans everywhere, some tools I don’t recognize, and some that I use at home for medicinal purposes. I briefly wonder why these would be in the kitchen.

“Karou,” I say the name of my home village quietly. A knot forms in the back of my throat, when I realize I may never see it again. I try to swallow. “Where are we going, anyway?”

“So many questions, and so much to do. Do you have a name?”

“Konoe.”

“Konoe of Karou. I’m the first mate on board this vessel, and the Captain is special to me. He’s taken an interest in you unlike anyone I’ve ever seen before. I’m not sure if this is a good thing, but for your sake, I suggest you start getting used to the idea.”

“An interest? What do you mean?” I feel like I’ve been pushed up close to the edge of a cliff and forced to look over, and now I see an eternal fall into darkness. That fear threatens to take over my mind, and my ears flatten against my head, my fur bristling.

The tiger approaches me. “Konoe of Karou. Let’s try this again. I’m Bardo, first mate of _The Murderous Joy_. It looks to me like you’re thinking of running. Let me advise you _against_ that course of action. There’s nowhere you can go where we won’t find you, and running _definitely_ won’t put you on the Captain’s good side. You’d be better off if you just submit, here and now.”  
  
I can hear my pulse racing loudly in my ears.  
  
“Submit? T-to what?”

“Well, for now, he only asked I clean you up, and then return you to his chambers. That is all. You look a _mess_.”

“I-i-i can do that myself.”  
  
“I’m sure you can. But he didn’t ask _you_ to do it, did he?” A somewhat devious smile appears on Bardo’s lips. _What does he mean to do?_

“I don’t understand. W-what do you want?”

“ **Strip**. Those clothes have got to go. We can’t have lice on **The Joy** , and certainly not in the Captain’s quarters. He’ll have my hide.”

_What did he say? Lice? I don’t have lice. And I’m not going back in there!_

I’m alarmed. _Is he serious?_ I freeze in place, and don’t move a muscle. _He must be joking._ He’s turned his back to the work area, and it looks like he’s pulling out some tools—maybe a brush or a comb, and he’s pulling a pot of… boiling water off the stove. _Wait—boiling water?_

“What are you going to do with that water?”

“Oh, this is for you. We’ve got to get you cleaned up.” His voice is even, but his back is still turned away from me.

I look more carefully, and I’m sure that water is boiling. The hair stands up on the back of my neck, and _I’m not having any of this_. Bardo is standing between the door and me, but I’m sure I can make it. Especially if it means that I’m not going to get boiled alive, or that my skin won’t be burned. _What the hell?_

Using my claws to get a good grip, I spring off the bench, all at once, using every last bit of strength I have in my body and both my arms and legs for leverage. I even make it to the doorway and get the door open and my foot into the hallway—but I realize too late I made one minor miscalculation. I’d forgotten to keep my tail in line with my body. Bardo’s hook grabs my tail at the last minute and pulls me back, forcing me back into the galley.

With a loud crash, I fall to the floor, and _man, he used only the strength in his arm to stop me!_ I make a pretty horrible squawk as I hit the ground and groan in pain as I lie there, curling my tail close to my body defensively.

“Listen, _Konoe of Karou_ ,” Bardo’s voice is hovering over me— _I won’t open my eyes. I don’t want to see how close he is to me._ “Do you know what would happen to you if you’d made it to the deck?”

“Ugh—what?” I’m in terrible pain.

“If Master Gen had found out that you were tryin to escape the Captain’s orders, you’d be given a _severe_ birching on your bare ass, in front of the _entire_ crew—and, in spite of the Captain’s insistence that you are his, he hasn’t _marked_ you yet, which isn’t in your favor. I seriously doubt things would end well for you. I think you’re better off staying with me.”

“What?” It sounds like he’s hinting he’s the lesser of two evils.

“You don’t think I’m going to _ignore_ your attempt to escape, do you? You just tried to escape from _me_ , a kind _disabled_  old man with one arm. You better _believe_ you’re going to pay for it later! But for now, let’s get to the task at hand. **Strip**. Get out of those clothes, and hop to it.”

My eyes fly open at his words, and my jaw drops, but I don’t know what to do.

“ **Get naked** ,” Bardo repeats. “Don’t make me say it again. You don’t want my help because this hook isn’t kind to skin as pretty as yours.”

I feel a shiver run through my body, and tears well up in my eyes. _I refuse to cry in front of this old pervert!_ The Captain said—

“The Captain said I was his.” I stand up, and take off my shirt over my head. The shirt smells disgusting—it practically stands up on its own it’s got so much filth attached to it. I throw it on the floor in anger.

“That he did.” Bardo crosses his arms, watching me with a crafty look in his eyes.

I kick off my boots, angrily. They too are covered in filth.

“ _What_?” I ask, keeping my tone confident, to keep the tears from falling. I move my hands to my sash and apron, tearing both from my body in one smooth motion. “See something you _like_?”

“Certainly. Although, you’re a little scrawny, aren’t you? You need a _little_ more meat on your bones, in my opinion.” 

“ **You don’t have to look** if I offend,” I say, puffing out my chest, noticing my fur has bristled up even further. I move my hands to my belt and take it off, too, tossing it aside carelessly. _Scrawny? What the hell!_

 “You’re pretty young, aren’t you? Not twenty?”

“I’ll be twenty this year. I think.” I add the last two words very quietly. 

“Oh? You think? Your parents have so many litters they couldn’t remember when you were born?”

“ _No_!” I snap, my hands resting on the waistband of my pants. Bardo isn’t meeting my eyes. He _totally_ is checking out my body. I rip off my pants. “I’m _alone_ in this world. My father _died_ before I was born. Mom _died_ when I was very young; I don’t know how old I was.”

He meets my gaze then, quite suddenly. I lift my head proudly. _I’m not going to give this guy the pleasure of seeing my tears, my humiliation._ I toss my pants aside and meet his gaze, and think, _Fuck you._

But his face is softer now. He looks... sad, nostalgic, almost heartbroken. _Why? I don’t need your fucking pity, you fucking pirate._ He opens his mouth as if to say something, and then closes it. He tries again.

“Konoe of Karou, I’m sorry. I was insensitive.” A short pause. I’m surprised, because my anger has subsided in return to his kindness.

“It was long ago. I just don’t know exactly how old I am.”

“Didn’t the people in your village help raise you?”

“The people in my village hoped I would _die_ so they could have my family’s land. They were surprised I could feed myself at eight years old, and that I _survived_. I learned to fight, protect my territory, but I wasn’t accepted in the community.” I am standing in my underwear, and I look at Bardo rather awkwardly.

I think the most _confident_ move would be to bravely divest myself of my last filthy garment, but that boiling water frightens me. Do sailors not feel the heat the same way other cats do? I’m afraid he may just dump it on me.

“Get rid of those, and come along then,” Bardo says suddenly, nodding to my underwear, and turning on his heel.

He takes the pot of water off the stove and adds it to a small tub, already partially filled, resting the floor behind the counter. I hadn’t seen it since I’d been sitting on the bench, and then I’d run off toward the doorway. 

I comply meekly, feeling a blush rise all the way to my ears. I didn’t _really_ think he was going to _eat_ me, did I? _Of course_ cats don’t bathe in _boiling_ water.

“On a ship, hot water can be hard to come by. We can get it here in the kitchen, and it’s brought to the Captain’s quarters anytime he requests it. While you’re technically _his_ , he likes to keep his quarters pretty clean, and you’re… a mess right now. Let’s see if we can get you up to his standards.”

He helps me into the water—and it feels wonderful and smells good. I can’t place the scent. It smells like mint and rosemary and another herb I can’t place. I can’t remember the last time I had a warm bath. He pours water over my head, and soaps up my hair and ears, massaging it with his huge hands so firmly and thoroughly that I can hardly think.

He pulls my legs back down under the water so he can rinse my hair—and I hear him say, “I need to check you for lice.”  
  
“I don’t have any.”  
  
“That’s what you _say_ , but you saw the Captain’s pride and joy—that lovely mane of hair—with your own eyes. He’d _kill_ me if I allowed you into his quarters tonight without checking you myself.”  
  
_Wait—what did he mean? Into his quarters tonight?_ My eyes open wide in response to that statement, and I’m rewarded with soap in them.

“Keep your eyes closed, kitten, or the soap is gonna burn. Let me rinse them for you. Here—“

He gently rinses the soap from my eyes. He isn’t a mean cat, I realize. In fact, as he runs the comb through my hair methodically, I begin to enjoy the touch. It feels good.

He hands me a cloth. 

“I trust you. You clean up your body, give yourself a good rub down, while I’m going through your hair.”  
  
The galley is light from the torches as well as from the stove, I realize, but Bardo’s vision must be very good. He’s examining my hair very closely, combing through each strand, then pulling it aside. It pulls a little at the root, but he tries to be gentle. He even goes through the fur of my ears. It occurs to me that he might also want to go through the fur on my tail, and I start to feel uncomfortable and worry.

I don’t like other cats touching my tail, and it’s still awfully sore from when he pulled it so hard earlier. When I merely _think_ about him touching it with that comb, a little shiver runs through it and all the way up my spine. I don’t think I’ll be able to tolerate that kind of intimacy.

So while he’s looking through the fur on my ear, I ask casually, “Cats don’t tend to get lice on their tails, do they?”

“Oh, they certainly do."

“…”

After a pause, I try again. 

“Will you have to use that comb on my tail?” I can’t keep the desperation out of my voice. 

“Is there a problem? Are you itching or something?”

“No! Nothing like that! I don’t have lice. I just don’t think I will be able to stand it. I don’t like my tail to be touched. It’s very sensitive.”

Bardo stops combing for a moment and tilts my chin in his direction. _I hate this._ I feel like a child, and I’ve never been treated as a child. I may look small, but I am an adult here.

“You are **adorable**.”

His words surprise me—so much that a  stupid-sounding shocked noise drops out of my mouth.

“Huh?”

“I don’t want to worry you, but if you don’t think you can handle _me_ combing your tail for lice, what _in the hell_ are you going to do _tonight_? In the _Captain’s_ quarters? Again, I don’t want to worry you—I really did do my best with him—I tried, but he is the type to prefer a good fight to a good fuck. And so, he doesn’t have that much experience. I’m genuinely _afraid_ for you.”

“What? What are you **talking** about? _I’m a guy_! What is there to be afraid of?” As the words leave my mouth, I am forming the thoughts, I remember the look the silver cat was giving me, how he grabbed me like that, and the fear starts creeping in.

“Oh, you’ll find out soon enough. You _poor_ thing. You really _did_ grow up isolated. You haven’t even had your first heat yet, have you?”

“My first what?" Did he say "heat"? Something gets _hot_? Am I going to get _burned_?

Bardo looks terribly concerned, but he also has that wicked smile on his face, which both confuses and worries me. I wonder what I should do, but the fear in my body takes over, and I start to panic, standing up in the water, splashing around as I do so.

“No, no, no, _don’t you panic_ —we’re not _done_ here—and what are you _doing_ —and _stop_ splashing!” Bardo can get very loud, it turns out. He grabs something from the side of the tub, and I barely register seeing his hand coming down against my ass— _my gods, is he about to hit me?_

 _Oh my gods, he just hit me!_ The sound is ear-splitting—I hear it first—a loud, wet smack— _I can’t believe how loud it is_ —and then before I can process the sound, I feel it. _Shit_! _Gods, as loud as it was, it hurts twice as much_! _What the hell was that!? No way in hell was that just his hand! Holy shit—my ass is burning!_

And before I finish feeling the burn in my ass, I hear another slap, also as equally loud and as wet, equally as shocking, and my voice makes it out of my mouth in a yelping cry this time—hopeless, helpless, it sounds like a squeak— _so damn embarrassing!_ And this one hurts even worse the second time than it did the first, because the second blow hit a little lower, just at the spot where my leg and ass connect, and _holy shit—is that painful!_

Those tears that were threatening to come out earlier in humiliation are right there again, poised and ready to go— _if he hits me again, I’m sure I won’t be able to keep them in._ I squeeze my legs together, take in a deep breath and sit back down in the tub, immersing my burning ass in the hot water once again. I see a hairbrush in his hand—he’s picked it up from along side the tub and that was his implement.

“Don’t you _do_ that! _No panicking_ while I’m in the room.” Bardo says sternly. “Anyway, I _still_ probably owe you a few more swats for when you tried to run off.” He rubs my shoulders in a friendly way. “You took those pretty well. I’m impressed. But _shit_ , if your ass isn’t _made_ for that, I don’t know whose is. If you know what’s _good_ for you, you’ll _do what you’re told, when you’re told_ , and you keep that thing _covered_ at all costs. Just my advice from a guy whose been around a lot longer than you have.”

“Keep what covered?” I ask.

“Good gods,” he mutters. “You are just the  _greenest_ kid we’ve ever had on board, aren’t you?” Bardo leans toward my face.

Speaking of kids, my mind races to Ciel. “Bardo, do you cook? How are your medical skills? There’s a kid down in the cells where I was held, he’s young, and he’s really sick. I think he might die. He can’t keep anything down. That’s actually why I was singing.” 

I feel horrible it’s taken me this long to remember Ciel. _Please let him be okay!_

“Please, Bardo. _Please. I will do anything. Please._ Help him. Get him something warm to eat, and a blanket. There’s another captive down there who doesn’t care about him, and isn’t helpful. If I’m not there to help, I’m afraid he will die. He won’t have anyone to take care of him, if I’m not headed back tonight. _Please_. He needs help. He’s a good kid. He isn’t even 15 yet, I bet.”

“ _Really_?” There’s a strange, silken quality to Bardo’s voice I didn’t notice before, and his face is very close to mine. “Is he as cute as _you_ are?”

 _Gods, this cat really is a pervert. But whatever it takes to get Ciel warm and safe._ “Yes. He’s cuter, actually. He has dark hair and deep blue eyes, and he’s super sweet. But he’s got a fever. I tried grooming him and it helped a little. That’s why I was singing to him.”

“Wait. Did you sing to him? You were singing to him?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“The Captain gets these _terrible_ headaches. They prevent him from sleeping, from eating, from doing _anything_. He has to surround himself in darkness. He looks like death when they come over him. Even since he lost that eye, these have been coming on more frequently, like they are possessing him, almost like they are taking over his soul. But when he heard your song, his pain was relieved. He said it was like your _voice_ cured his pain. He said something about your song being the Siren’s song. I heard it, too—and it made me feel quite good, too, and I wasn’t even ailing at the time. The Captain is sure you healed him.”

I’m a little surprised. It’s taking awhile for all the information Bardo just gave me to catch up in my head, for some strange reason. My brain isn’t working quite right. _Is it because something smells funny? But what did he say again? The beautiful, regal, elegant-looking Captain gets painful headaches like that?_ The thought makes my heart ache. _(Why? He frightened me just a few minutes ago, didn’t he?)_

“How often does he get these headaches?”

“He won’t tell me. But I think they have been interrupting his sleep. And he’s been obsessing about navigating these waters for weeks, looking for this Siren. I just didn’t believe it till I heard your voice myself. Hand me your tail.”

_I don’t want to._

“Did you _like_ the feel of the hairbrush against your ass? Because I actually _really_ enjoyed it. I also _loved_ the noise you made when I spanked you with it. It looked great, too—you jiggle in all the right places.”

“What!?” A shocked, angry noise comes out of my mouth. _Who looks at something like that?!_ I’m horrified. 

“We can do this in one of two ways. _The easy way_ , in which you hand me your tail right when I ask you. Or, _the hard way_ , in which I spank the _living daylights_ out of that perfectly round little behind of yours with my hairbrush, and _then_ you hand me your tail like I’ve asked. Either way, **you’re going to hand me your tail.** ”

I consider the options. _I’m not sure I believe there are only two options._

“Your face looks like you think there may be more than two options. Let me assure you **there are only these two options**.”

I look down, ashamed, and then I timidly hand Bardo my tail.

“I’m not going to hurt you. I’ve been doing this a long time.”

And he doesn’t. He’s very gentle—more gentle than he was with the hair on my head. He’s a cat, so he knows how to handle another cat’s tail. Plus, because I’m not trying to escape, he doesn’t have to pull. He starts carefully combing through the fur. It’s not exactly comfortable, but it isn’t horrible. I just haven’t had another cat touch me in such and intimate way in such a long time, it’s a strange experience.

When he reaches the hooked part, I feel like he spends an _unnecessary_ amount of time on it, so I turn to see what he is doing. I _hate_ that part of my tail. I think I broke it right around the time my mother died, and I didn’t know that you’re supposed to set the bone to help it heal straight. So it healed crooked. And every time I look at it, I think of Mom and my inability to care for myself, and it makes me feel inadequate.

“What are you doing? Isn’t it enough?” I sound crabby.

“I’ve never seen a tail like this. You know, seafarers consider this a lucky tail.”

“Well, I’m sorry I have a crooked tail.”

“No, I’m saying I _like_ it. It’s a cool tail—it’s _great_ to have such a unique tail.”

“Well, excuse me for having such a _unique_ tail, then.”

Bardo sighs. “You really are young, and you _don’t_ know how to take a compliment. I _like_ your tail. It’s an unusually muscular and firm—like a whip—and your fur, while short, once it’s clean, it’s amazingly thick and plush. I had no idea you had blonde fur underneath all this grime. Rai is so totally going to fall for you.”

“Rai?”

“The Captain. His name is Rai. Didn’t I mention?”

I pause for a moment, as Bardo is combing my tail. 

“This may be a strange time to ask.” _As I’m sitting in front of this old guy, without a stitch on, and he’s cleaning my tail of all things, and he’s spanked my bare ass only minutes before. He’s seen all of me_. _And I'm very vulnerable. Why is my mouth going on like this?_ “Do you know the Captain as more than just the Captain? You seem very fond of him.”

Bardo looks at my face in surprise. “How did you pick up on that? Hell, maybe you really are a Siren of the Sea, like Rai said. Is there magic in your family?”

“Magic?” His question has confused me enough to stop asking my own. There's a bit of a pause here, while I consider the implications of magic. It hurts my brain.

“So, Konoe of Karou. You know how you were uncomfortable about me combing through your tail fur? Lucky you, it’s all done. But unfortunately, that’s not quite the last bit of fur I have to comb through.”

“It isn’t?” I ask. I’m getting sleepy from sitting in the bath. Plus, something has been tickling my nose and making me feel weird. I _know_ my brain isn’t working right.

“Here, sweet kitty, you’re tired. Let’s help you out of the tub, first.” He helps me stand up and starts to dry me off. It smells really nice. I mean, it smells _really_ good. “The good thing is that I put a little catnip in the water to help you smell nice. Rai likes it, and it should help you relax a little, too. Frankly, you’re going to need all the help you can get.”

Catnip? “Is _that_ what smells so good?”

“No, _you_  are what smells so good,” Bardo replies. “But let me finish. I can’t bring you back to his quarters just yet. We’ve got _two_ more things to attend to. Do you know what?”

“Mmmm.” I’m feeling really strange and sleepy. _He said something about looking through all my fur. He did, didn’t he? He got my hair, my ears, and my tail… what else is there? Wait._ I freeze up a moment and peek at Bardo over the towel he’s using to dry me off.

“You don’t mean…” I make a face. I'm terribly embarrassed.

“Well, critters are just like cats. They like it where it’s nice and warm and _active_.”  
  
“Whaaa?” Another strange exclamation comes out of my mouth. I have certainly done _nothing_ active such as Bardo is implying, especially _not_ since I’ve been here. _I guess they don’t know me, though._ And the thought of perfect silver hair floats through my mind. _Why is that in my head?_

“What do you want me to do?” I’m mortified. I can’t think of a time in my life where I’ve been more humiliated.

“Don’t worry about it.” Bardo says. “I also function as the ship’s doctor, in dire emergencies. If you’ve seen one, you’ve pretty much seen them all.” I wonder what kind of crew activities or illness cause the crew to have to show their privates to Bardo, and is it all at the same time? Wow. I _really_ don’t know much about sailing. “Just sit still, right where you are.”

I obey, and he has his comb again. _Ugh. The only way this could get worse is if he found something, I suppose._ And I giggle. _I can’t help it._

“Something funny?” Bardo asks, not looking up from the comb. 

“Well, what if you find something? Am I still ‘ _his_ ’?” I make my voice sound deeper when I say the word "his."

“Oh hell, yes. He’d probably just take his frustration out on you another way. You’d better pray to the gods I _don’t_ find anything.”

I should be afraid of that statement, but I giggle again instead. Bardo replies, “ _Someone_ is pretty sensitive to catnip.”

I ask, “Who?” I’m looking around the room warily, for whoever it is Bardo is talking about.

“Gods, you are _hopeless_. What are we going to do with you? He may really eat you alive.” Bardo is looking at my face now.

“I am hungry, now that you mention it.” The words are spilling out of my mouth in a hurry, and I can't stop them. I feel so different, so strange, strangely talkative.

“Shit, maybe that catnip was a bad idea. Man, just don't let him kill you.”

“Kill me? I won't be able to _help him_ if he kills me. What was the other thing?” I ask.

“Hmm?”

“You said there were **two** things to attend to. What’s the other thing.”

“Oh. The other thing was to punish you for trying to escape from me earlier.”

I feel a sharp intake of breath from my mouth—I didn’t even mean to. it just kind of happened on its own—and I cover my butt with both my hands and look down at the floor in front of me.

“Ah, but when you’re like _this_ , I can’t bring myself to do anything to you. You're just too _cute_. Shall we save it for another time? Or perhaps I might just mention to your owner that you weren’t very corporative when we first started, but you improved, and he can deal with it as he sees fit?”

“Oh no, don’t tell him. Plus…” My voice wanders off a little.

“What is it?”  
  
“Well, I’m not _wearing anything_ ," I say this in a whisper, in case Bardo has forgotten. It seems he has. "I _can’t_ go in there not wearing any clothes. That doesn’t seem very… _respectful_.”

“Oh, doesn’t it?” Bardo’s voice sounds oddly full of mischief. “Don't you think he might _enjoy_ seeing you naked?”

I look away, blushing fiercely. 

“I don’t want to think about that.”

“You’d _better_ start thinking about it pretty soon. Like— _real soon_.”

“Don’t you have _something_ I can wear?” I’m close to begging and pleading. “Please? It’s just not _dignified_. What if he is having a headache, and I show up naked? I don't know if I can sing when I'm naked.”

“Konoe of Karou, he will be _delighted_ to see you in _anything_ —or _nothing_ at all. Let’s get your fur brushed out, but I will find you something to wear in the meantime.” Bardo turns to one of the many cabinets. Really, I’d be thrilled with a pair of underwear that didn’t stand up on their own.

I don’t want to say that, of course. That would be extremely undignified.

I feel a chill run through my body. It’s cold in here, but I don’t care to stand any closer to the fire. The fire makes me nervous. I’m not going to tell Bardo, however. He’s already seen me at my most vulnerable. I don't want to do anything else embarrassing or shameful.

He pulls out a clean, crisp pair of undershorts for me—even in my size, and in black, not too risqué. I wonder why they are here, and right away, I push that thought out of my mind, trying not to think about it. It’s a slaving ship, after all. I put them on. And then he proceeds to comb out my fur.

“Comb closer to the fire. It’s warmer.”

“I’m fine,” I insist, flinching as little as I can whenever I hear the flames popping on the stove. “I’m not cold,” my teeth chattering as an obvious indication of my lie.

“You’re not, are you?” Bardo says, with slight irritation. But he leaves me alone for once, and lets me suffer on my own. At least until my fur is gleaming and shining in the firelight—I don’t even recognize my own tail—it’s fluffy and gorgeous, shiny and beautiful. Finally he says, “All right, You are ready." He leans over me and gives me a surprisingly swift and sweet lick on the ear, which makes my shoulder lift up, all by itself. "Let’s go.” And he leads the way back to the Captain’s quarters. My heart gives a mysterious leap, and I fight the urge to run in the opposite direction.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back in Captain Rai’s quarters, Konoe is marked as the Captain’s property, much to his dismay. Rai tries to prepare him for the ordeal to come in front of the crew—where he is informed he will need to be publicly claimed as Rai’s, or run the risk of being taken by the rest of the crew (at once).
> 
> Trigger warnings: non-con touching, piercing, masturbation, penetration, groping, and restraint in this chapter. It will be worse in the next chapter.

My mind is hazy and fuzzy from whatever it is Bardo put in the bath water, so much that, even though my brain is urging me to run from this experience, I end up cooperating all the way back to the Captain’s quarters. To my surprise, the chambers are empty when we arrive, but Bardo is unperturbed and seems almost relieved.

He leads me to the built-in bed when I hear the alarm in my head sound. However, my body lets itself be pushed against the soft furs, pillows, and blankets, and Bardo drapes another warm blanket over my clean body.

“Just try to be quiet, and get some rest,” he advises, an earnest look in his eyes. “That is what you need right now. I’m sure he will return in a moment. Keep quiet.”

_What, if I am quiet, he will forget I’m even here?_

But when the cabin door opens, I realize why Bardo has told me to keep quiet. In that short time, I’d forgotten just _how_ intimidating the Captain really is. He takes long strides into the chamber, tossing his hat onto the table. Even the way he strips off his coat—while in private—shows complete confidence in his role as commander of this band of unruly pirates. He has a certain elegance to him that the others I’ve encountered on board do not. There’s a nobility, a pride in the way he carries himself. It’s strange, I think, for a commander of a pirate vessel. Maybe he wasn’t always a pirate?

I try not to stare, and I keep very still, but he stops what he’s doing just the same. I hear jingling and clanking noises coming from his hands. _Of course, he hasn’t forgotten about me._

“You’re so quiet, but by the gods, I had no idea you’d clean up this well.” He turns to look toward me, that gorgeous icy blue eye taking my gaze like he owns it. His powerful gaze make the hair on the back of my neck stand up, and I nearly flinch under its power alone, but I manage to maintain eye contact. It’s in our genes to maintain power using eye contact. I see he uses his powerful gaze to its full advantage, but I’m no slouch either. I know how to project my gaze, too, though that strange scent from the bath is affecting me rather powerfully.

For example, why do I find his eye beautiful? But it is, and as he approaches the draped bed, where I am lying among the pillows—well, where I am propped up, so I could see when he entered the room—I notice there isn’t a single thing about his form or face that is physically displeasing or unappealing. He is tall, lean, and devastatingly handsome. He is extraordinarily muscular, and his clothing is cut perfectly to show off these features. Might it be possible that this pirate is a little vain? Are pirates vain creatures? I don’t know.

I’m captivated by his hair. He’s sitting on the side of the bed now—large enough for four cats my size, or maybe two of his—I’m tempted to reach out and touch. It looks so soft, the way it shimmers under the soft light of the lamps, like spun silk or thin strands of silver thread. I’d never dare, though.

As these timid thoughts cross my mind, I’m appalled to watch my own hand stretch out, grasping a handful—tenderly, gently, like a lover might—just to feel it slipping through my fingers. I’m mesmerized at the sensation of each strand sliding through my hand. It feels even softer than it looks. It floats like silk because that’s its actual texture. It has such a mystical quality.

This is such a soft feature for a cat with otherwise hard lines—a large and strong body, an unbreakable gaze, a commanding and resounding voice, chiseled facial features: a long nose, sculpted cheekbones, an angled jaw, and a slightly pointed chin. Then, in juxtaposition, there’s this amazingly soft hair—right in my hands—and atop his head, a pair of even softer, rounded ears, which I long to touch, but they are just out of my reach. I wonder if his tail is this soft, too....

Suddenly, my mind starts to catch up with what my body is doing. I hear a strange utterance fall from my mouth—it sounds shocked. And indeed, I _am_ shocked by my own actions. I really cannot _believe_ I am touching him in this way—like a lover—without his permission—and taking liberties with his hair that I have heard he is very sensitive about and cares for very much. I’m _mortified_ that I dared do such a thing, before even introducing myself! I realize what I’m doing, and before I stop myself, that dreadful noise has fallen from my lips. I guiltily look up at the eye I know must be bearing down on me with disdain and the gods only know what else.

I’m even more surprised at the face staring back at me, however.

The Captain’s facial features have softened—so much, that he looks _almost_ like a different cat. As he is watching his hair in my hands, how I carefully examine it, running it through my fingers as though it entrances me, he looks at me with _warmth_. Is it warmth? Something I don’t dare recognize in his eye—it almost looks like _passion_. It frightens me, and that’s when I drop those strands, more valuable than silver, as well as my hands themselves, to my sides.

“Do I frighten you?” His voice is low and musical, the words gently spoken. His own hands reach out and take mine—comparing them in size, turning mine over in his, feeling the knuckles and bones of each, as if memorizing them. He rubs his thumbs against my palms, which I find simultaneously relaxing and excessively distracting.

I don’t know whether to answer his question honestly. When he lifts one of my hands to his lips, keeping that single pale blue eye trained on my own, which I’m sure I couldn’t open any wider, planting a light kiss on the back with his soft lips, and following the kiss with a slight lick with his rough tongue, my astonishment grows even further.

I accidentally release another one of those dumb-sounding shocked noises, and reflexively try to yank one of my hands back, with the purpose of covering my mouth. But he refuses to release either, eyebrows raising slightly.

“You don’t like me holding your hands?”

“N-no, it’s not that,” I manage to stutter. “I j-just don’t know why I’m making all these embarrassing sounds in front of you!”

I feel my face and chest heating up, which means my ears are going to go next. I can just feel the heat spreading into them with horror. I watch as his expression changes from simple curiosity to surprise to utter delight.

“Your ears turn _pink_ when you blush?” He cannot hide awe and the pleasure in his voice.

“Well, it’s a n-natural thing, isn’t it?” Of course they do, and it’s a rather sore point with me since I blush very easily. _But don’t all pale haired cats have the same issues? I’m sure he’s the same!_ “Don’t yours do the same?”

“They absolutely do not.” He speaks with conviction tinted with pride, while letting one of my hands go, so he can run his fingers through the fur on my ears, which are warm and getting warmer with the topic of conversation, and therefore probably turning even pinker as we speak.

“W-what? That can’t be true! You’re a very pale cat, too. Don’t you blush all the time?”

“No. I’m not sure why, but I rarely blush.” He leans his body in closer to me. “And, I _enjoy_ watching and rather envy cats who do.”

I feel a damp sensation inside my ear— _was I just licked?_ I get the romantic nature of kissing a hand, but licking an ear? That I do not understand. When it happens again, I lift my shoulder to try to protect myself against any other attack, and I try to push the larger cat away, to no avail. “What are you doing?”

“This blushing business is going to be a problem.” The words sound directly into my ear, as I’m pushed down into the bed. I continue my struggle to escape, all to no avail. “I _adore_ seeing your emotions on display on your face and your body, but I do not think this is going to go over well with the crew.”

“The crew?” I’m feeling rather desperate now—with the continued licking, my body is starting to respond, and I feel ashamed. Specifically, I feel blood rushing into my waist and hips, even though it’s my ears getting the attention. I don’t understand why my body is responding like this! I really don’t want him to notice!

“They are ruffians.” The Captain uses this word as if it explains everything. My ears flick down close to my head, hoping this will discourage any further assault, as escape appears hopeless.

“Ruffians,” I repeat. I use both hands to push against Rai’s chest, hoping to be able to get him off of me this way.

Rai takes both of my hands in one of his own, and pins them over my head, more than easily, causing another embarrassing noise of concern leak from my throat. With both hands restrained, I can’t even cover my mouth! _This is no good._

“Yes.” The downy fur white inside my ears is being moved with each breathy word, and I can’t help but squirm beneath the larger cat, especially now that I can’t move my hands. “They will want you for themselves unless I mark you right away, and take you for myself.” These words are followed by a very wet lick, right in the downy fur deep in my ear, which, while very loud, also sends chills down my spine and into my tail.

Rai’s face briefly floats in front of mine, dragging his luscious silver hair over my chest, hovering over me for a moment.

“Because, as I’ve said, I’ve been searching for you for a long, long time. You are _mine_. And I do not share.”

“Share?” I dare to ask in a small voice, as loud as I can muster.

“It means I will protect you from them.” Rai reaches to the side table next to the bed, where I saw him leave that noisy package earlier. “I’ve brought you a gift.”

“A gift? Why? I don’t require any gift. I will gladly help you with headaches, and you don’t need to do anything for me. Bardo told me you are suffering, and I’ll do all I can to help. But you don’t have to do anything for me. I just don’t want to be away from home for too long. We don’t have to make this a serious commitment, and I don’t require payment. As long as I can go home, I’ll do anything.”

The Captain has turned his head to face me again, and he is staring at me—maybe staring isn’t the right word. _Maybe glaring is the better word._ _Did I upset him?_

“I think you misunderstand. You said you’d do _anything_ to help me?” His voice sounds reasonable and light, unlike the look in that eye.

“Anything. I don’t think anyone should suffer. Especially not someone as grand as—“ I stop myself suddenly. _What was that? What was I going to say?_

Even Rai seems a little surprised by my words. But he graciously pulls himself together and continues. “Why not allow me to give you my gift if that is my preference?”

“Um. All right.” I’m instantly quieted, abashed and shy, realizing I may have gone overboard. I manage to silence myself.

Rai brings a small cloth to the bed, displaying the most beautiful jewelry I have ever seen.

“In order to protect you from the crew, as well as any on land who may have a quarrel with me, I would like to mark you as my own. I’ve chosen the best pieces from my collection of treasure, and I think these will suit you.”

I notice that he hasn’t asked me if I would wear them, or if I would like them. Perhaps because I’ve already said I’d do “anything,” I’ve already assented?

There are a pair of wide gold cuffs—very wide—engraved with beautiful scrollwork—elegant, without being gaudy. There is a second matching pair as well which look slightly larger—maybe in case the first pair didn’t fit, I guess?

“Your frame is so delicate,” the pirate captain comments, holding my wrist between two of his large fingers. ”I’m afraid I might accidentally snap your wrist.” He turns to face me again. “Please know this—I do not want to hurt you. There may come a time in which I will have to— because of who I am and the rules we must follow while at sea. But I will make it up to you if I ever hurt you and it isn’t justified. Do you understand what I am saying?”

He tilts my chin up to meet his eyes. I nod slowly, afraid of what will happen if I don’t acknowledge his words.

“What do they call you, kitten?”

“K-Konoe.” Desperately trying to be bold, I still manage to stutter my own name.

“Little one, Konoe, you may call me Rai in the privacy of these quarters. However, in front of the crew, call me Captain.” Rai is opening the hinged bracelet, has placed it on my wrist, and closes it. I notice it locks with a tiny key.

“It suits you beautifully.” Rai takes my other hand and puts on the other bracelet as well, locking it in place. “The lock signifies that you are taken.” The keys are worn on a chain around his neck, which he already is wearing.

I turn my wrists over and notice that there is an attachment on the outside of each bracelet as if something might be attached there. I study it, but Rai has moved on to the next piece.

It’s a matching gold collar, also hinged and covered in gorgeous scroll work. He puts it around my neck, and it feels cold—giving me a pleasant little weight where there was none before. Also I realizes this also has several more of the same loops that the bracelets have. I’m about to ask, but Rai is pulling the blanket from my body. I remember I’m wearing only underwear, and I’m overcome with shyness.

“Stop! What are you doing?” The panic is apparent in my voice.

“Shh, little one, you are all right. I just need your feet. These are for your ankles.”

“My ankles?” I’m a little taken aback—and shocked enough to let him grab my foot. Wow—he moves fast!

“Yes, it’s a matching set. See how lovely you look?”

Before I can complain, I see the first cuff locking around my foot, and I must agree—it is beautiful. I have never worn jewelry—I have never owned any. I had a ring that belonged to my father, but otherwise, nothing. Once the second cuff is on, the set is complete, and it looks perfect. Although, I strangely feel even more naked with the jewelry on than I did wearing the underwear alone. I feel a little embarrassed.

There are still several items left on the cloth. Two small bars with sparkling gems at either end, a (very pirate-looking) small gold hoop with a sparkling gem swinging from it, and a long delicate chain. There’s also an item I don’t recognize at all. It has a sparkling jewel at one end, and the other is shaped like an elongated sphere, or perhaps more like a three-dimensional spade, like from a playing card. I have no idea what it is, but it looks beautiful. To my surprise, however, Rai pulls me into a sitting position, and feeds me something to drink from of a glass bottle left on the side table.

It’s very strong—and I choke a little, but I take as much as he gives me, as best as I can. I hear Rai chuckle a little, saying, “Bardo said you were a virgin, and suggested I show you as much kindness as possible. We’ve got a public performance this evening, and I don’t want to hurt you. So we should start preparing you in here.”

Rai takes a swig out of the bottle, and kisses me on the mouth. First by pressing his lips against my unsuspecting ones gently a few times, he runs his tongue across my closed lips, demanding entrance, then quickly taking it. He holds my face in his hands, encouraging my jaw to open by pressing gently on the side of my face. I realize too late that Rai is up to something else, while he’s overwhelming me with his mouth. He’s attached something to the cuffs around my wrists, and then to the bed—and suddenly, while my mouth is occupied, being completely invaded by Rai’s tongue—his long tongue stroking mine, firm and demanding, as if Rai already owns me, in fact—my arms are pulled over my head and firmly restrained.

I let out a small protesting cry, which sounds more like a murmuring sigh right into Rai’s mouth since I can’t move. I realize both my hands are restrained, and Rai has free access to my body. His hands travel down my bare sides, sending shivers up my spine, all the way down my tail.

When my mouth is finally released, I turns my head away from Rai— _in fear? In anger? In protest?_ —but I meet his eye from the side.

“What are you doing to me? Let me go!”

 _Is this the true purpose of this new jewelry? Restraint? Why would I need to be restrained?_ A bolt of fear courses through my body, but it strangely sends another visible shudder through me, and I see the corners of Rai’s mouth curve up in satisfaction. _Is he enjoying this?_

“Your body doesn’t seem to dislike it.” Rai has backed up from my smaller body, examining me intently, as if looking for something. I notice his eyes resting on my crotch—which, even through my underwear, shows that I am hardened beyond anything I’ve ever felt in my life.

“Don’t look at me!” I blush furiously, my own gaze dropping, mortification multiplying, but as much as I think I hate that large cat staring at me, the fact that he’s looking at me is turning me on even more. _Why am I even like this? What is going on with me?_

“Why not? You’re quite an amazing sight. I can’t believe how well you’ve cleaned up—and how well you’re responding. You look—” I feel a soft touch on my ears again, and I shiver despite myself. “Beautiful. And I have to mark you as my own before the crew sees you. Don’t you want my protection?”

“I don’t _need_ your protection!” My gaze meets Rai’s icy one boldly. “I don’t _want_ your protection. I can protect myself.”

“Can you? Even from ten cats the size of Bardo, attacking you at the same time, you think? Would you rather they have their way with you?” I feel the hand from my ear wandering down my bare back toward my tail. I try to arch away from the hand, but that makes my body push into his, so I don’t know where to move. It makes me shudder and sigh audibly, and I can’t cover my mouth to prevent the sound from escaping.

“Don’t touch me!” I struggle to try to escape the touch, lashing my tail.

“Perhaps you misunderstood me earlier.” Rai’s tone has changed slightly. It’s dropped in volume, and the warmth of his voice has suddenly vanished as well. The iciness brings chills to my skin, bringing goosebumps to the surface. I feel his hand on my chin, light as a feather, tilting it up slightly, making me meet that cool gaze once more.

“When I said you were mine, I wasn’t asking your permission, nor your opinion.” The look in that eye is unwavering. “I don’t mind a little spunk in my chamber. But I’m warning you, you’d best not defy my wishes in front of the crew. I run a very tight ship.”

There’s a power in that voice, in that gaze, that truly frightens me.

“I punish crew members who disobey my orders. Ruthlessly. You wouldn’t be an exception. In fact, I think I might enjoy punishing you a little _too_ much.” The hand on my tail has moved to my ass and gives it a firm squeeze, and I release another strangled sound.

“So, shall we get started then?”

I release another strange sound, unintentionally, from my throat, and softly echo, “Get started? With w-what?”

“Marking you, of course.” I feel his hands smoothing over my chest, and they don’t tickle like I expect like they ought to. They make me shiver, they make my body quiver. My skin reaches out to him like it _wants_ his touch—and I don’t know if it’s because of how his fingers are touching me, or because of that damn scent in the air, or because the state my body is in—but _I need it to stop._

“I thought this might be a good place.” I feel his fingers stop at my nipples—squeezing slightly, twisting them between his thumbs and forefingers, making them stand up erect and at attention, blood rushing to the area, and it feels amazing.

 _Wait—he wants to_ mark _me there? What is he talking about?_

“W-wait—J-just a second—“ I start to stutter, but I don’t get a chance, because he lowers his face to my right nipple, raising his eye to my face. His hair is brushing the rest of my body—it’s covering me, feeling soft like silk, so much thicker up when it’s brushing my body like this—and he smells so good.

“Ah—“ as his tongue licks my skin, and then, “Ah—ouch!” I yelp, as I feel his teeth against me, pulling against my soft flesh, I feel his fangs on skin that no one has ever touched.

“Sensitive, are you? See how your skin responds to me?” I see him reach to the side table again, and he brings the bottle up to my chest, pouring liquid against my chest.

“Ack!” I protest loudly. The alcohol feels cold against my skin, and my nipple raises itself to its fullest, most upright position. He cleans off the excess liquid with his tongue. His tongue feels so much rougher than mine—and the feeling of it drives me a little crazy, making me breathe faster, making me feel dizzy. With a little of the liquid left in his mouth, he kisses me, making sure to stroke my tongue thoroughly, leaving the strong taste of alcohol in my mouth. It adds to my already woozy feeling.

I watch him bring something else against my chest—it sparkles in the low light of the lamp—it looks like a needle— _oh my gods! It is a needle_ —and I try shrink back in terror, but there’s nowhere to go in these restraints. I see it pierce the skin before I feel a cold, sharp pain, right where he bit me. He glances to my face, just briefly as if to check on me, flashing me a smile, and I’m shocked to feel him press the other hand against my groin.

The sound released from my mouth was supposed to be a pained cry— _it hurts_ , and burns suddenly—he’s piercing a needle all the way through that sensitive flesh—but it doesn’t come out like that at all. Instead, I hear a desperate mewling sound coming from my throat, mixed with a growl, and I draw my claws and bare fangs involuntarily.

“You _like_ it, don’t you?” Rai asks. I watch as the needle makes its way through my skin, and he takes one of the longer pieces of jewelry from the cloth, rinsing it in alcohol. “I wouldn’t have pegged you as one of those—but I think we will get along _very_ well.”

I watch as he threads the gold bar through the newly made hole in my skin—it’s fascinating and strange, making me light-headed. It feels so bizarre, like watching someone else’s body—and I hear myself growl again. He caps the open end of the bar with a jewel.

“These are diamonds,” he explains, as he threads the sparkling gem on the end. “They are very rare—hard to find, hard to mine, hard to cut, and once cut, sharp enough to cut through most other elements. I find them beautiful. Each of these,” he continues, now rinsing my left nipple with alcohol, “is one of a kind. None other can be found like it in the world. As suits you.”

I realize he is planning to pierce my other side. My growling gets louder, and I start to struggle. He grabs my chin, and says, “When the crew sees these markings, they will stay away from you. They will know you are _mine_.” His lips are on mine again, and he licks my fangs.

Soon enough I feel the needle piercing through my flesh again. With fascination, I can’t look away. But my growling is growing louder, and again, I feel his other hand palming me— _down there._ And my dick is responding. _Why? Why am I getting hard when I’m in pain?_

“Have you always enjoyed pain?” His tone sounds strange— _mostly fascinated, but passionate and a little out of breath, I realize—does he feel it, too?_ And I watch him, now threading the second jeweled bar through the left hole. Looking down at my chest, I realize I look like a different cat.

The delicate gold chain is attached to both bars, then to the collar around my neck, draping subtly at my chest in a gentle triangular shape. Rai rinses each newly opened wound with a little extra alcohol. I hiss at the contact—it burns intensely. I feel my back lifting up off the bed, and I bare my fangs again, and I’m growling loudly with claws drawn. With my hands restrained, however, I’m helpless.

Rai sits back to look at me and sighs. He licks off the excess liquid but doesn’t swallow any of it. Instead, he forces it into my mouth, despite my growling and hissing protests, ignoring my fangs—not caring that I might bite him.

I’m angry at this point—I think I’m angry. _I don’t want his markings, I don’t like his markings._ But I’m incredibly aroused, and I feel... helpless.

“You look... delectable.” I hear it whispered in my ear, and I’m horrified. I see Rai rinsing the needle in alcohol again, and realize that there are still two items left on that cloth.

I want to ask what the hoop is for, but I’m too upset. I feel him licking my right ear, leaving it freezing cold with the alcohol on his tongue. And then suddenly, he grabs my chin with one of his hands, pressing my left cheek to the bed. That cold right ear suddenly starts to burn, and I feel that needle piercing the soft skin at the tip—and I let out a loud cry, and tears escape my eyes this time.

This time, the pain is different from the pain from my nipples. I feel the cry coming from the core of my body. A red-hot song starts from within me, and a melody starts to form. I can feel the familiar vibration of sound, and my body starts to sing.

The melody soothes me—soothing the pain in my ear, as well as the pain in my nipples, which feel strangely heavy with the jewelry. I imagine my body glowing, and see tendrils of light floating lightly out of my body, lighting up the room and my surroundings, giving my soul peace.

The melody is gentle and soft, not aggressive, much to my surprise, so my claws retract, but my fur is still bristled, and my fangs still show. To my eyes—Rai’s hair shines and sparkles in the light—an almost golden hue, rather than silver—and he looks beautiful. He’s looking at my face now, but I still feel the needle in my ear, feeling oddly heavy and strange. His expression is peculiar, I notice. It’s almost as though he, too, can see the illusion of light—the melody—that I imagine I see.

_Wait. Can he see it?_

“What is this? What are you doing? Is this…?”

I watch as his hands try to touch the tendrils of light that I see. _He_ can _see them! I’m not imagining them?! Is this light real? Has this always been real? And all this time, I thought I was just imaging it._

“This is the Siren’s song. I didn’t know you could sing for your own benefit.” He has stopped fiddling with my ear at this point, but it still feels strangely heavy.

“No,” I respond. “Not a siren. This is just me humming.” I try to explain. “This is what I’ve always done, when I express sorrow or pain, or sometimes joy—any kind of overwhelming emotion or sensation. This humming comes out like this. I didn’t think anyone else could see this light, though. I thought it was my imagination.”

“It sounds beautiful.” Rai says. “Your voice—it sounds so mysterious. Not just in my ears. It echoes within my heart.” He is looking directly into my eyes when he says these words. “This is what I heard—long ago—when I was young, before I went to sea, when I was wandering the northern forests. I’ve been looking for you ever since. Do you remember? Do you understand?”

There is a desperation in his voice I haven’t heard before. It sounds almost pained or needy. It’s soft and gentle. And then, he takes my lips with his again, and this is _not_ gentle or soft—but it definitely maintains the same desperation and neediness. I feel his hands in my hair, on the back of my head, pushing my face into his, while he buries his tongue deep in my throat—almost deep enough to choke me.

But my song doesn’t stop. I cannot stop the humming. My body is completely overwhelmed, and it’s almost as though the song is a defense against all these new feelings. On top of the strange melody coming from me, I can hear sighs of pleasure spilling from my mouth and throat into his, along with a purr—I think it’s mine, at least.

When he finally releases me, I am limp in his arms, and I feel spent. He takes a moment to remove the needle from my ear, and I feel a pinch as he (probably) slips the hoop inside.

“I need a visible mark, in case your chest isn’t on display,” he explains. “I’m sorry it pained you. I didn’t mean to overwhelm you—but I love to hear your voice.” He licks the offended ear gently—and his mouth is cold—he probably has rinsed it with alcohol again.

I feel dizzy and out of sorts. I want him to stop. I don’t want this. At least, I _think_ I don’t want this, as I feel his hands sliding down my back again toward my waist. The song is quieting down, but I can still feel my body humming softly.

One of his hands grabs the chain connecting the two new piercings on my nipples, and I give a little cry. _It hurts!_

“Please—don’t—it hurts—“

“Are you sure it hurts?” The voice asks, and I feel his lips press against my neck. Another hand slips down further and boldly fingers the waistband of my underwear.

“Stop—don’t touch—“

“You don’t want me to touch this?” His hand grabs my shaft—palming the head first, which is dripping wet. “You’re so wet—dripping and eager to be touched.”

I groan into the sensation—his strokes down the length of my dick are smooth—and I feel each one of his fingers, and my body arches up into his hand, much to my dismay.

“N-no—“ I argue. “I d-don’t want this.” I feel a sharp pain, as his fangs bite into my collarbone, followed by his tongue and lips, with a gentle lick and kiss.

“How do you know what you want, if you haven’t tried it yet?” The words whispered against my collarbone sound so tempting.

“Get off me!” I try again, but fail to make my body comply, as my hips, against my will, press themselves into Rai’s hands, aching for his touch. _Why am I like this? What is happening to me?_ I am close to tears in my frustration.

Rai lifts his face to me.

“Like I said, I don’t mind a little spunk. But as I said, we have a public performance approaching soon. Like, in a few minutes.”

“W-what performance?” I breathlessly ask, the words starting to sink in. “Public? How? What do you mean?”

“I need to show the crew that you belong to me, and not just in name.”

Fear strikes my heart, and I quiver. My tail, bristled out to its fullest, droops between my legs. “I don’t understand.”

“I think you _do_. Why don’t you let me help prepare you, in here, just a little, so you won’t be in quite so much pain?”

“Pain? I really don’t understand. Please. Can’t you—You’re the Captain—Can’t you...? Please, _please_. Help me?” I feel the tears falling from my eyes, as realization comes into focus.

“That’s what I’m trying to do. We have a little more time. Relax your body. Your body knows what to do, and I think if you just go with the flow, you will be _much_ more comfortable later.” His tone sounds almost kind, all sense of threat is gone.

But I’m afraid, quivering and shaking in his arms. He gently kisses the tears from my eyes—and continues what he has been—and gives that chain another gentle tug. It brings such a strange surge of pain and pleasure so dangerously close to my groin. _I’m sure it has to be from what he’s doing with his other hand—stroking me like that._

I realize I’m breathing really fast— _from fear? Panic? Pleasure?_ I feel him tug my tail, near the base, which makes me arch my back again, and brings another sigh from my mouth. I don’t want my arms restrained—I’m pulling against the restraints now, fighting against them, huffing my breath, and he brings his lips to mine, kissing me roughly.

I feel the hand at the base of my tail slip down toward my entrance, and I stiffen, but he isn’t discouraged. He continues circling that most private area with his finger, and he presses against the head of my dick—hard—with his other hand, and I can’t help the noise I make—it’s past lewd.

“What are you—?” I’m afraid— _very_ afraid—of what he will do to me.

“Just relax.” That rumbling low voice is purring and low, almost a growl, and a command. I can’t disobey. And with his stroking, it’s easy to feel the pleasure. And my restrained arms won’t let me move. I feel his hands make a smooth switch, and then a finger slips inside my ass—covered in my own fluids—and after a small burst a pain, and a moan from my lips—I’m shocked to hear a sigh of indulgence coming from my throat.

It feels so good—my body wants his finger inside me, gripping his knuckles as he slides in and out, as he hooks his finger as though searching for something. I don’t understand where these feelings are coming from, and they frighten me. I try to concentrate on the smooth sensation of the hand stroking my cock—hard and smooth—to distract myself from my guilt and confusion.

My vision suddenly flashes white—feeling like the ground drops from underneath me—just for a moment—a wave of near nausea coming over me along with a frightening wave of pleasure from something brushed deep within my insides. My indulgent sigh is exchanged for a near scream.

 _This cannot be my body_ , and I feel the blood rushing to my cock in a hurry. _What was that?_

“Ah—I see,” I hear a pleased chuckled, and he brushes the spot again—this time a little more softly, and this time, I can’t help the noise that issues from my mouth, nor the expression on my face.

“I can’t—Stop— _please_ stop——wait—I’m—going to—I can’t—“

“Just come.” The gentle command growled low in my ears, and I don’t wait for him to change his mind. The pleasure in my hips surges, as he brushes that spot a third time—only a third time—and I feel a finger pressing into the slit of my dick almost painfully. I feel a rush of pleasure from my body—rising up from my waist and hips, and my insides clench around his finger, as I climax into Rai’s palm—I can’t even hear the lewd sounds my body is making at this point.

The pleasure surges around me—all the stress I’ve felt throughout the day seems to come bursting out in waves—and I feel myself relaxing with every breath as the world darkens from its pure silver hue—the same shade as that gorgeous hair.

I’ve come from his fucking me with his hands alone, and as I come down from my high—a deep wave of shame comes over me, along with a deep red flush. I feel Rai pulling his finger out, and replacing it with something else—a little wider, a little shorter, and a lot cooler—I shiver from its temperature. Is it that last piece of jewelry I saw on the cloth, I wonder? It isn’t painful, and it feels heavy, but I can tell it’s there. I wonder if it has a purpose.

As I lie there, I feel him cleaning me up, very gently, with a towel, and he pulls up my underwear, as if I were something breakable and precious. I feel him toying with the chain on my chest, but I keep my eyes closed, and I don’t look at him.

I feel my ears burning.

“Your ears are pink again.” My shame is incredibly heavy. As are my nipples. “You are adorable.”

 _Adorable?_ I’m appalled. _What exactly is my role here?_ I refuse to open my eyes. But I feel a hand in my hair and on my ear—the one that hasn’t been pierced.

“Perhaps some clothing would be in order.” Rai releases my arms from the restraints. Instead of getting dressed, however, I pull my arms up against my body, curling up in a small ball. It feels amazing to have my arms to myself again.

“Please, just a moment,” I’m finding myself begging, my voice close to tears. “ _Please_.” My voice sounds so small.

“I can hardly resist if you ask like that,” Rai replies. “You have three minutes. I’ll get your clothes. Just rest.”

I can hear shuffling, and after the short time is up, I find clothing ready. I’m not impressed with the selection. The shirt—if it can be called that—has long sleeves and shoulders, but it’s open at the chest and abdomen, to show off my nipple piercings, chain and collar, and my belly. It’s very fine black leather, however, and very smooth, and it fits very tightly. Rai helps me lace it up in the back so it fits properly.

The black leather pants are form fitting—so form fitting that I can’t wear underwear underneath them. Rai states, “It looks like it’s the pants or the underwear. Your choice. I’m happy with either.” He has a wry smile on his face, and watches as I remove the underwear to put on the pants. I try to remove the thing from my ass—and he gives me a rather harsh look to stop me. Also, the sides of the legs lace up, so they don’t do much for warmth. And if I were to be aroused in these, well, everyone would notice.

I’m given a pair of soft leather shoes, which show off the gold anklets nicely—so my bracelets, anklets, and collar are all nicely on display. Next Rai runs a brush through my hair—and that feels surprisingly pleasant. When he is finished, he also brushes out my tail, making it shine as nicely as his does.

He puts on his coat and his hat—I notice I don’t get a hat as grand as his—and he turns to me.

“Konoe.” I turn my face up to his. That pale blue eye is looking down at me intently. “Remember, out on deck, you are to address me as Captain. This is not going to be a pleasant experience for you, but I hope it will be less unpleasant than it could have been, and I promise, it’s for your own good.”

He takes a large link brass chain from the wall, and attaches it to my collar and wrists. I feel my stomach dropping to the floor. He gives the delicate chain on my chest a light tug, sending a surprising bolt to my groin. _What the hell?_ I make a strange noise, bringing my hand up to my mouth, as if to catch it before it escapes.

“You look gorgeous.” He gives me a quick smile. “Let’s go, and get this over with.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really do love Rai x Konoe, but I must have it out for him in this fiction, and most of mine. Lots of non-con stuff for him, sorry!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short fluff chapter to add much-needed character development to Rai and Konoe, just before they go on deck. I know, it’s a little sugary sweet and weird, but I wanted to add something here that isn’t all violent and gross.

I follow Rai—no, I’d better get used to this sooner rather than later— _Captain_ Rai—into the hallway, and then into a labyrinth of hallways, not paying attention to where I’m led. Truthfully, my heart is pounding so loudly in my ears that I really  _can’t_ pay attention to where we are headed. I’ve always had a hard time with directions anyway. In this relatively small space, I would probably be confused even if I _were_ clearheaded. I keep my eye on that proud, white tail in front of me, swishing side to side with every long stride.

I feel my body breaking out in a nervous sweat. I don’t know what the point of all _that_ was, back in his quarters. Thinking about it now makes heat rise to my face and my ears burn in shame. When I drop my eyes to the ground, I can see that even my chest is pink, through my embarrassingly revealing shirt. I feel a shiver run down my spine. Why did he _do_ all that to me back there? What is going to happen to me now? What exactly is involved in this _claiming_ business, and why does it have to happen _in front_ of his crew? _How did I even get myself into this situation?_

As soon as that thought appears in my head, familiar self-loathing appears with it, hand in hand, a giant dark cloud floating over my head. I’m filled with regret. How could I let myself be captured so easily? Why did I even _try_ to escape my village? Should I have just stayed there? I couldn’t have, really—I would have been killed. Perhaps I should have waited for Tokino. I _should_ have gone with him the last time he invited me. I didn’t because I didn’t want to impose on his family. I told him I would come to him if things got worse in my village. And then they had.

I escaped by the hair of my teeth with only the clothes on my back. Or I thought I’d escaped. Only to have the crew of this ship come across my camp on my fourth day in the forest. I wonder, what were the chances of our paths crossing like this? Sisa is a large mass of land, isn’t it? I hadn’t been that close to the coast, had I?

I just can’t get these circumstances to line up correctly. It’s like a dream here, like it isn’t real. _Pirates_? Really? _Piercings_? And then, this business of being a _siren_? On one hand, I’m filled with regret, yes, but on the other, I feel a strange sense of something else, maybe fate. What if ours was a fated meeting? I look up at the tall, straight back in front of me, and that long, (beautiful) silver hair. And just as I look up, Rai—no, _Captain_ Rai—turns to meet my eye. The corners of his mouth are raised just a hint, and he actually winks at me. I’m shocked at this, and I can’t suppress a sound indicating my shock from my mouth.

He pulls me closer to him. He could do this by pulling on the chains attached to my wrists, but he doesn’t. Instead, he pulls my shoulder in close to his body. He feels so warm and strong, so steady and unmovable. It feels like he really _will_ protect me. I hide my face in his chest for a moment, holding back my tears. I didn’t realize how filled with emotion I am.

“Let me tell you again.” His voice reverberates in my ears, as he holds me tightly in his arms. “I’ve been looking for you for a long, long time. I am certain it was your song I heard so many years ago. You are the one I’ve been searching for all these years. I will never let you go.”

I feel his hand against my chin, as he gently tips my face upwards, so I can see his expression.

“You’re about to meet the crew I’ve assembled—these are the cats I’ve gathered over the years, all for the purpose of trying to find you. And they have finally come through for me. They are the best at what they do, but they are an unruly bunch. I have to show them I mean it when I say you are mine. Promise me that you will do what I ask of you, without question, once we are on deck, even if it seems distasteful. It’s the only way I know to keep them away from you. If you don’t, I don’t know how to protect you.”

I drop my gaze to the floor.

“Konoe.”

When he says my name, I feel a shiver run through my body, the fur fluffing up on my ears and bristling on my tail, and the hair on the back of my neck standing straight up. What _is_ this feeling? Has he _done_ something to me? What is _happening_ to me? I feel a tender touch brush the nape of my neck, as he tilts my head upwards again. He stoops down slightly to my level, meeting my eyes.

“ _Promise me_ you will obey me. This is for _your_ protection. You must promise me.”

If he’s going to ask me like this, I can’t deny him. Not after how he touched me earlier in his quarters… I just can’t find it in me to refuse. But then I feel his hand brush one of exposed nipple piercings, making me inhale sharply.

I don’t _want_ to obey. I want to _resist_. I have a stubborn urge to _resist_. I didn’t _want_ this. I didn’t _ask_ for this.

“My protection? What are you talking about? Aren’t you really talking about what _you want_ me to do?”

“Konoe.” When my name falls from his mouth, he rounds his lips slightly, looking like he is tasting me (and my name) while he says it out loud. It looks incredibly sensual, and it’s terribly distracting. “Members of this crew who disobey the Captain’s orders are subject to severe lashings and other harsh physical punishment. Is that why you want?” He isn’t threatening me, I realize, but warning me. Maybe I should listen to him after all. Another shiver runs through my body, and my tail twitches in response. I _really_ hope he didn’t notice that.

“I will do my best.” My voice is quiet, timid, and shy.

“I am sorry I had to hurt you with the piercings. But you will see—they will protect you. My crew won’t dare lay a hand on you.”

I think of Bardo. He didn’t seem so bad; in fact, he seemed almost kind. But I haven’t met the rest of the crew yet, so perhaps they are mean and cruel. I’m still a little overwhelmed by our earlier interaction, so that thought disappears quickly when a new question burns at the tip of my tongue.

“What exactly will you expect me to do?”

Rai looks away from me, a slightly troubled expression on his face. “The crew expects me to claim you, in front of them.”

“I don’t understand what that means.” I press further. _Rai looked away!_ _Why_? Doesn’t he _want_ me to know? He doesn’t want to _tell_ me? Now I’m even _more_ nervous.

There’s a short pause. Rai opens his mouth again, looking in my eyes. His face is very serious, and it frightens me. “Claim you _physically_. In front of them. Claim your _body_.”

“M-my body? D-don’t the piercings do that?”

“No.” He lets out a frustrated sigh. “This is why I was... warming you up a little in my quarters. You haven’t experienced your first heat yet, have you?”

“Heat?” I ask. I have no idea what he’s talking about.

“My gods.” Rai sounds even more exasperated. “What did they teach you in Karou, anyway? Don’t they teach the young about Ribikan mating rituals where you grew up?” He pinches the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger for a few moments before continuing, voice sounding more patient now. “The crew will want to see something more… _intimate_ than what we did in my quarters.”

“Oh. I see,” I respond, but it takes a moment for my mind to process the meaning of his words. “What?! M- _more_ intimate? Than _that_?!” I’m horrified. I cannot imagine.

“That’s why I suggested we warm you up a bit first.” Rai looks away from me again and doesn’t meet my gaze. I look down to the floor, completely at a loss. A steamy whisper sounds in my ear,  breathy and quite unlike the voice he’s been using so far.

“That last gift should also be helping you, even now, while you are just standing here. Can you feel it?” I feel his hand touch my lower back, which is exposed, just above the waistband of my tight pants, where he brushes downwards ever so slightly. The downward stroke hints as to which gift he’s referring, much to my mortification. Then he grabs my tail at the base, rather firmly, pulling my body close to his.

My face flushes hot, and l am really embarrassed. I can’t answer his question, but I _do_ feel that last jeweled gift of his—he’d insisted I leave it right where it was—and it’s adding a rather pleasant sensation and weight just below my tail. When he grabs my tail like that, I would have expected the pressure to hurt, but it doesn’t. _Not at all._ It feels _amazing_ —and I’m shocked by this feeling. It makes me arch my back, and I find myself pressing my body into his when I’m pulled close, an embarrassing, pleasured sound squeezed from me, mixed with a purr.

He grabs my jaw firmly, meeting my eyes once more.

“I’ve been searching for you all this time, Konoe. I will not let this or any single event traumatize you or damage you in any way. It may be strange and new, but I need you to _trust_ me. Just do as I ask, even if you are afraid. I will do my best not to hurt you. Keep your eyes on me, and ignore everyone else.”

With those words, he puts his mouth on mine, and kisses me, _hard_. He rubs his tongue against mine with such fervor that I actually _believe_ his words. Maybe he actually has been looking for me for as long as he says he has. Although that can’t possibly be true. He must have me confused with someone else, but I don’t want to disappoint him. Part of me desperately wants to believe I _am_ the cat he’s been searching for. Then, the other part thinks that if I can be of help to him, I will, but I don’t want to be in this situation right now.

I pull my mouth away as soon as I get the chance.

“Rai. I know you think it’s me, but is it possible you’ve confused me with someone else? I will be helpful to you anyway I can, but I don’t think it’s me you want. I think you must have me confused with a cat who actually can _do_ something. I’m just a simple cat from Karou. There’s _nothing_ special about me. I don’t think I’m the one you’ve been looking for, and I’m certainly _not_ this siren person. I don’t want to disappoint you—“

“Konoe.”

Both his hands are gently holding my face now, and his pale blue eye looks deeply into my honey-colored ones. I feel my body quivering. It must be fear—it can’t be desire. I _know_ it can’t be desire. _I’m not that kind of cat!_

“I know you are afraid. Please trust me. I heard your song, and there is no mistaking it. You are my Siren.”

When I look into his eye, I feel his earnestness. It’s like Rai has pushed all his intense longing—not for some made-up fairytale character—but for me, _Konoe_ —into his words and into his gaze. I can’t help but _want_ to relax into his arms. It’s _foolish_ of me to want to trust him. I _know_ it’s reckless. I _know_ it is. My body is _screaming_ at me, my brain is _warning_ me, but my _heart_ welcomes his words, and there’s more! I feel like I’ve finally found  _home_. I don’t know what it is, but something in this cool, silver cat burns hotter than fire, hotter than anything I’ve ever felt. And it’s burning _for me._

I take a deep, shaky breath, and Rai smiles. And he is smiling _at me_. His smile is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, lighting up that cool blue eye and melting its icy blue hue. It brings joy to my heart and tears to my eyes. I feel so much warmth that I can almost ignore the metal clanking sounds of the chains around my wrists when he takes my hand and leads me out onto the deck.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Out on deck, Konoe learns what it means to be claimed by someone. Ciel makes another appearance.
> 
> Warnings: Public blowjob, public groping, non-con drug use (I'm counting catnip as a drug in this series), and dub-con sexual activities.

My ears twitch every which way once we step outside onto the deck, just from the overwhelming amount of noise. I don’t know where to look in all the raucousness. I’m a little surprised since I haven’t heard this amount of noise (caused by cats) ever in my life.

There are a lot of cats out here. Looking around me, I count about three dozen, and _all_ of them are larger breeds than me, close to Rai’s and Bardo in height, some brawny and seasoned, some lean and slim, and _all_ look quite rough. I see one only small cat, standing next to Bardo—he is smaller than I am, his shiny dark hair and ears sparkling under the pale light of the moon of shadow. I notice his eyes are a lovely blue, and when he looks up, I see it’s Ciel. I’m relieved to see that he’s all right—he is standing unassisted and looks much better than he did the last time I saw him. I give Bardo my most grateful glance. He must have helped him.

There’s a strange anxious look in both of their eyes, and I notice something sparkling in Ciel’s ear—it looks like a silver hoop. His ear has been pierced, just like mine! His clothing is quite different from mine, however. He’s wearing something that looks like a kitchen uniform, so I wonder if he will be working with Bardo.

I consider this for a moment and then look down at my outfit, which is drawing some attention—including that of Ciel’s and Bardo’s. If Ciel is wearing a chef’s whites and an apron, it probably means he will be working in the kitchen, under Bardo. So—what does my outfit say about me? What exactly will my function be? I feel a familiar heat rising in my ears again.

My abdomen is exposed, my nipple piercings are on display, the chain connecting them is showing them off, my wrists and ankles are cuffed and chained, ready to restrain me. (I can't help noticing Ciel is not restrained in any way at all.)  My pants ride low on my hips and show off every curve of my ass. There isn’t a movement that doesn’t expose what my feelings are. So what exactly is my role on this ship? I look up at Rai, fear settling in my heart again. I’m not the ship’s whore, am I? He did say he _didn’t_ want to share me, but _what_ _exactly_ doesn’t he want to share? I’m really scared.

Bardo gives me a friendly grin and a rather lascivious wink, which frightens me even more, and I try to cower behind Rai. He keeps me right next to him, however, displaying me proudly next to him. I hear him clear his throat, readying himself to speak. As soon as he does this, the crew silences its rowdy behavior, much to my surprise.

“Welcome, crew of The Murderous Joy. We have some business to discuss during this muster. First Mate Bardo, would you like to begin?”

Bardo puffs up his chest and opens his mouth.

“I’d like to welcome our new member, Ciel, to the crew. He’ll be training under me in the kitchens, and I’ve claimed him as my own, as you can see." He gestures to the ring in Ciel's ear. "I’ll be taking full responsibility for him.”

“I see. Ciel, are you willing to obey the rules here on The Murderous Joy, no matter what we ask of you?”

Ciel looks terrified but has been coached well. He looks at Rai directly and answers, “Yes sir, Captain Rai.”

“Do you acknowledge Bardo as your protector?”

“I do.”

“Are there any objections?” Rai aims his sharp gaze at the rest of the crew, and Bardo fluffs out the fur on his tail, slightly bares fangs and draws his claws, moving his body in front of Ciel's, symbolizing his status as his protector. No one speaks.

“As there are no objections, then, from this day forward, Bardo has laid claim to Ciel and will be held responsible for his safety and behavior.”

 _Wow. That was easy._ That wasn’t at all what I expected. If that’s all it is, there shouldn't be a problem with me, will there? I hear both Ciel and Bardo let out a breath they’ve been holding.

“Onto the next order of business,” Rai continues. “I’d like to thank you, my crew, for the amazing job you’ve done. You’ve managed to locate the Siren.”

There’s a collective gasp among the crew on the deck and some murmuring among them.

“He was found among the last group of captives. Allow me to introduce you to Konoe of Karou. I am hereby laying claim to him.”

The deck is dead silent, and all eyes turn to me. I’m suddenly very aware of my skimpy outfit, as I feel over three dozen pairs of eyes crawling over me, creeping up my bare skin and the outline of my body, which is still in an embarrassing state of half-arousal from Rai’s fervent kisses from minutes earlier.

 _Did he do this on purpose?_ I think he must have known, and I feel irritation rising with the shame of this public examination. I angrily flash my eyes at Rai. He returns my gaze with an ultra-soft, imploring expression, all funneled into that single pale blue eye of his. Before I can make a sound, his lips move. They form the words, “trust me,” without making a sound. It softens my heart and my anger, just a little.

That’s right. He said this would be unpleasant. Maybe it's his status as captain, or my status, whatever it is, that makes this procedure harder than Ciel’s. I glance down at my feet, but the minute I break eye contact, I hear my chains rattling. I look up again, and Rai is imploring me to keep eyes on him. I see his hand make some kind of signal, but I have no idea what it means. It looks like he’s holding two fingers down, and flicking them towards his face, but such a small motion so the crew wouldn’t notice. Well, I suppose they are checking me out right now anyway. Probably looking at my outrageous outfit, I’d guess.

“I’m sure you can see I’ve marked him already.” His voice rings loudly across the deck. He’s scanning the faces of his crew carefully. He toys with the delicate chain on my chest, pulling it slightly. It makes me wince—I think in pain. (At least, I hope it's in pain—but what if it isn’t? What if it’s something else? What if it’s pleasure? Wouldn’t that mean I’m really screwed up? Do I _want_ this cat to hurt me? I don’t _want_ to be hurt—I know I don’t. My nipples are still very tender, and I’d almost forgotten there’s a hoop in my ear. I almost cry out when I feel his hand on that as well.)

“This is the only time I will be having this conversation, so listen up. _I do not share._ This is the cat I’ve been seeking for the past ten years. He is the reason behind your job, this ship, and this crew. I’ve invested every last penny from every bounty in my search for him. You’ve been a mighty help to me, and I appreciate it more than you will know. I’ve got a hefty finder’s fee and bonus for each and every one of you, as promised.”

He looks at me once again and pulls me closer to his body, so I’m standing in front of him.

“But you’ve worked with me a long while, and you know that _I do not share_. Keep your hands _off_ this cat. He is my property. I will be taking full responsibility for his behavior, and he is _mine_.”

He runs his hands along both sides of my body in a showy, protective gesture. It tickles me a little, and I try not to squirm.

“I realize he is a beautiful cat, and he has some unusual qualities as far as his voice is concerned. You may speak to him if you wish, and you may make him feel welcome on board The Joy. But if _any_ of you should lay even a single finger on him without my prior permission or order, I will kill you without hesitation.”

He keeps his voice completely calm when he says these words, which somehow makes them even more terrifying.

“Have I made myself clear? Are there any objections?” I sigh with relief, thinking the worst must be over since this is how Ciel’s claiming went. Except that’s when several voices start speaking in turn, one right after another.

“Boss, what if this cat _says_ we did something to him when we really didn’t? We don’t know him from Adam. He _can’t_ be trusted. I don’t want him to make shit up about me that could get me killed!”

“Captain, that guy is a young runt, a baby! How can he possibly be the Siren you’ve been searching for all these years? Are you _sure_ you haven’t made a mistake?”

“Sir, cats from Karou are raised as fighters from an early age. Even this baby boy might be dangerous! How do we know he isn’t going to kill you in your sleep? He can’t be trusted!”

“It’s in my bones—just look at him! He’s oozing sex appeal—you can tell he _wants_ it! If he is the Siren, he could seduce any of us with his song, and we’d be _helpless_ against his charms! And yet you’d hold _us_ accountable for that? Boss, that’s just cruel!”

“I’m from a village neighboring Karou, and that place is _ruthless_. They kill and eat cats who don’t follow their laws. It’s barbaric, Captain! We can’t let him become part of this crew!”

“I just don’t like it! You can’t just give some unknown kitten this kind of power over the rest of us, who have _earned_ your trust, just like that!”

“Silence!” Rai’s loud voice booms across the deck—hushing all chatter in an instant. “I understand your concerns, so let me address them.” He aims his gaze toward the first cat.

“Kil, you only just met him, so stay out of his way, and keep your damn hands off him. He will leave you alone because he has to obey me while onboard this ship. You’ll have no concerns then.”

“Ul, let _me_ worry about what goes on inside the captain’s quarters, _especially_ at night.“ A raucous cheer comes up from the crowd at this remark. “You seem to have forgotten your _own_ heritage. Aren’t each of us killers? Weren’t we all raised the same way? In that sense, he should fit right in.”

“Max, I’m sure there's no mistake. I’ve heard his song, and it’s the same. Each Siren has his own song. We met when we were both young. I think he isn’t aware that he is a Siren himself, but that doesn’t make him less of one.”

He scans the deck once more.

“This cat obeys me in everything, as you will soon see.” He meets my eyes again, and I see that hand signal. He addresses me. “Kneel, kitten.”

I obey without hesitating. The sound of his commanding voice is terribly impressive. I’m ashamed to admit it, but when he orders me around like this, it sends shivers up and down my spine, and I can feel the blood rushing to my lower half. It's almost enough to make me dizzy! (Good thing I'm already on my knees...)

He holds his hand out, and I see a large ring on his middle finger with a huge ruby on it. “Do you swear your loyalty to me, as your captain and protector, and promise to obey me in all your actions, even while using your gift?"

I’m not sure what to do, so I take his hand in both of my small ones, and I nod and look up to meet his eyes.

“I require an audible answer, young one.” His tone is softer for me than it is for the crew.

“I do.” I manage to say quietly.

“Kiss the ring to seal your oath.”

I obey, keeping my eyes trained on his—and gods, his voice. I can feel my dick straining against my pants. And when I realize that, I also remember what I’m wearing. So everyone else can probably see it, too. My face heats up, and I can feel it creeping into my ears.

I notice his facial expression changes slightly—his mouth twitches—and then one of his hands comes out to stroke my ears. He pulls me to my feet again, and I hear a slight whisper, “Pink again—so cute!”

And then he pulls me into a kiss. I don’t mean a peck on the cheek, either. I mean, he tries to eat me alive in front of his crew. I’m just a little frightened when I hear the cheers, but I’m quickly swept off my feet by the sensation of that kiss. I have my hands pressed against his chest as if to push him away, but I have no power to resist. I feel a hand against the back of my head, and another on the small of my back, pulling me in close to his body and making me stand on tiptoe to reach his mouth.

His tongue is stroking mine again—long, bold strokes—and it feels amazing. He smells so good—and he tastes different. I think he may have eaten something just before we came out on deck—I saw him pop something in his mouth—and he tastes like mint. It reminds me of the scent that was in the bathwater, actually. And the longer he is kissing me, the more I want to be kissed, and the more I want to kiss him back.

I find my body melting into his, and he folds me into his arms, running his hands all over me—down my ass again, along my sides—that makes me shiver!—and even to the front waistband of my pants, which he uses to pull me closer still. I feel my anxiety and fear dissolving into a puddle of fervent desire and need, and I don’t understand where this is coming from!

When he pulls away from my mouth, I keep going, kissing his jaw, his throat, his barely exposed chest—every piece of skin I can see. I kiss his hands and suck on his fingers. I don’t know what has happened to me—I just know I _have_ to kiss him.

I think I hear more noise from the crowd, but I ignore it. Rai sinks into a strangely fancy chair, pulling me along with him, and I can’t help myself. I’m _more_ than eager—I’m _anxious_ for this. Is this the performance he means? Did he give me something just now? I look at his face, and I see a small smile, and I hear him whisper, “Ah, good, it’s working—I slipped you a little catnip from Bardo. It should make things a little easier for you.”

Easier? _What the hell?_

“I don’t know what is wrong with me,” I whisper, flustered, as I pull another one of his fingers out of my mouth to make room for the next one. He indulges me, allowing me to suck on his fingers. “I don’t know what I’m doing!”

“You’re doing great,” the praise he whispers into my ears is an _amazing_ turn-on, and I can feel liquid dripping from my cock, even though he hasn’t even touched me. “You feel amazing—so good. This is just perfect—keep it up.”

I feel him unbutton my pants and, even with as tight as they are, he is able to slip them down enough to expose my dick. He pulls my dick out, which is now completely wet, and I release the strangest noise I’ve ever heard myself make, and I do not even _care_. I’m desperate for him to touch me. We _just_ did this—less than an hour ago—and here I am, all worked up again. _What the hell?!_

I feel each one of his fingers against me as he uses my own fluids to stroke my cock ever so slowly—it’s such a teasingly slow way to stroke me that I get a little frustrated. But when he presses his thumb into the slit, another lewd noise comes from my mouth—and I realize my surroundings have fallen surprisingly silent.

Keeping his fingers in my mouth—they are teasing my tongue mercilessly—I boldly unbutton his trousers and take out his dick. I’m really going to do this. I haven’t seen him yet, and when I release him from the constraints of his pants, the differences in our stature becomes frighteningly apparent. But I’m desperate. I pull his fingers out of my mouth and lean over his cock and lovingly take a long lick—grooming style, from the base all the way to the tip—on the underside of the shaft. He is already erect and dripping, too—probably from our earlier activities—he _can’t_ be comfortable—but I don’t know what I’m supposed to do next.

When I hear a small groan from him—I know that was right, so I continue. I take as much of him as I can into my mouth, all these lewd sighs still coming from me, as he continues jerking me off. I can hear the noise of his hand on my dick, and it should embarrass me—but it doesn’t. It’s turning me on even _more_.

I feel my pants slipping a bit lower, and I feel his other hand playing with that jeweled gift that’s been in my ass this entire time—and I hear a collective inhale from behind me. I don’t have time to worry about it right now, though. I’m busy trying to get Rai to make more sounds like he was before. He’s so quiet when aroused when I can’t help myself—and I want him as messed up as I am.

Saliva mixed with precum is dripping from the corners of my lips, down my chin and chest onto the deck, as I’m sighing and wrapping my tongue around his entire girth. To make up for our differences in size, I start moving my head—bobbing up and down, trying to get all of him covered.

That’s when I notice a song forming in my body—different from anything I’ve ever felt before. This one is white hot (or maybe silver?) at its core. It’s surprisingly gentle, but at the same time erotic. I think this song is me expressing these new sexual feelings I haven’t experienced with another person, and the strange protective tie Rai has to me. The song says, “I want you. I desire you. I desire _only_ you. I desire you so much I can’t breathe. I want you. _Let me have you_. Give yourself over to me.”

I meet Rai’s eyes again, my mouth still around his dick, and his eyes are wide open, and he is suddenly distracted by the song.

“Is that— Are you...?” he tries to ask but falls silent. Then, listening to a little more closely—I see his eyes close half-way, but he still watches me, and his hands stop their movement momentarily, resting on my body where they are in stunned silence.

I definitely do _not_ stop. I take this chance to give it everything I’ve got—I am also purring, and I’m sure he can feel the vibrations in the back of my throat. And within a few minutes, I can feel his dick grow even larger in my mouth—almost large enough to choke me—and then, I hear and feel him stuttering and then sighing in pleasure—and what a sound that is in my ears! 

I feel him try to push me away just before he climaxes—maybe he doesn’t want to come in my mouth—but I don’t move. I take him—all of him—in a single swallow. I also make a point of licking off his dick in long, slow, tender licks—from the hilt all the way to the tender tip—all the while maintaining eye contact with him, while he is still quivering from his release.

I suddenly feel the eyes of the crew on me—and realize that I’ve done _all_ this out on the deck in front of everyone. I’m still incredibly worked up, however, quite literally caught with my pants down.

“I think that was enough of a show for everyone,” I can hear Rai’s voice, husky and sexy, and very relaxed. I suddenly feel weightless as he lifts me up off the ground, throwing me over his shoulder, bare ass in the cold night air. “Consider that a one-time privilege, and as close as any of you will ever get to my Siren.”

I feel myself swaying slightly, my dick incredibly hard and uncomfortably pressed against Rai's shoulder, as he heads for the door. I hear loud cheering and applause behind us as we exit—and I’m a little confused as to whether I’m in trouble or I did what I was supposed to do. I feel a hand on my ass just then, and I feel Rai playing with that jeweled item again.

“That was... rather extraordinary,” I hear Rai murmur. “Come, it looks like you need a little care, yourself, Konoe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This didn't turn nearly as violent as I was anticipating. I'm rather relieved.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Konoe's public claiming, he is left hanging in several respects. Rai carries him back to the captain's quarters for a brief discussion and some much-needed physical care.
> 
> Notes: There's a consensual (OMFG) blow job in this chapter. Well, I think from Konoe's point of view, it's wanted and consensual. I'm not going to think about it too much.

I find myself back in the Captain’s quarters before I realize it, and my body hasn’t cooled off yet. Rai sets me down on the bed, and to my _utter_ frustration, he pulls up a chair and takes a seat. What is he _doing_? Didn’t he _just_ say he would take care of me? Of course, I can't _ask_ for it. And then, I wonder, what _exactly_ do I mean by "it"?

“I wonder,” his voice sounds thoughtful, and his eye meets mine, as he pulls his chair up next to the bed. “I wonder if you might be a little more self-aware in this condition.”

“Self-aware?” I ask. I really don’t care what he’s talking about. I’m feeling two things right now: First, I’m nervous. I can’t tell if he’s upset by my actions above deck. Did I _displease_ him? Is that why he is acting withdrawn and cold? Second, my body is _on fire_. I don’t know how else to describe it, and it's unfamiliar and inexplicable. My dick is hard, and I can smell his scent from where I am lying here in bed. I still have his taste in my mouth. When I close my eyes, if only to blink (and I am deliberately blinking slowly), I can still feel his cock filling my mouth, which is making me hard enough to burst. My clothes are in complete disarray, and I don’t know what to do or why I’m even like this. I feel my body shaking, even as I try to stay calm. I think I should at least pull up my pants, so I’m not so shamefully exposed like I am.

While pulling up my pants is my intention, my hands run down my sides in such a sensual way, as though I’m showing myself off. And then another weird noise comes out of my mouth, when I mean to indicate surprise in what my body is doing. But it doesn’t sound like surprise. It sounds like sexual desire, and I do _not_ understand what is happening to my body. What is _wrong_? Why am I like this? My ears are burning up!

“You’re like this, and your ears and face are bright pink,” Rai states the obvious again. “Yet, you are coming on to me, throwing yourself at me. It’s a strange juxtaposition—innocent and lascivious at the same time. Sexy and immature."

“Lascivious? Sexy?” I ask. “I don’t know what you mean.” My voice comes out breathy and strange—I sound like he did, right after he heard my song, actually. _What is wrong with me?_ I think the tremors in my body must be visible at this point, at least my trembling hands must be obvious. He reaches out to them, touching my fingertips, and I feel a jolt, like electricity, run through my body. I can’t suppress the sound that escapes my lips in response. 

“You’re shaking.” Rai looks up to me, from my fingers, again. “You’re not afraid, are you?”

I don’t know how to answer. I _am_ afraid. I am _terrified_. I don’t know _what is the matter with me_. Tears spring to my eyes in response to his question, and he takes both of my hands in his.

“You’re scared. Why are you afraid?” He brings my hands to his lips, leaning his face toward me, and my shaking only gets worse. “The worst is over, and you did _so_ well. You did _just_ what I asked, and performed _more_ than admirably—better than in my wildest dreams.”

His voice is so soft and gentle. Tears slip down my face when my mind finally processes the words he is saying. He reaches up to brush them from my cheeks.

“What’s this? Tears?” His voice softens even more, and I notice he’s moved to the bed next to me, and that comforts me. “Talk to me. Tell me what is wrong, little one.”

I take a deep, quivering breath before I open my mouth.

“I was afraid I’d displeased you.”

“What. How? How on earth could _that_ have displeased me?”

“I didn’t know what to do, or what to expect, and my body kind of did its own thing. I felt afraid of everyone watching—it was so different from Bardo and Ciel. I didn’t know what you expected or what the crew expected. And the way Ciel was dressed was so different from the way I am dressed. I don’t know what my role is. And then, I tasted something in your mouth, and everything just got... weird.”

“Weird? What do you mean?”

“I wasn’t making _decisions_. I was just kind of... acting on instinct. I didn’t know what I should do, and my body just kind of acted on its own.”

“Weren’t you aware of what you were doing?”

“Well, I was, yes. And I’m _sorry_. I am _so ashamed_ of doing those things in front of your crew!”

I can’t hold back the sobs anymore, and I dissolve into tears. They flow freely, and my breath becomes uneven. My chest heaves with shame, and I can’t meet Rai’s eye. 

“I’m not like that! I’ve _never_ done those things before—not even in _private_. I’ve barely done things like that to my _own_ body. I don’t know what came over me. It was like something inside me broke open, and I couldn’t help myself—“

I suddenly feel Rai’s hand against my jaw, and he tilts my chin up to meet his eye. The other hand is behind my head, in my hair, in my ears. 

“Hush. That is the Siren’s gift, Konoe. You are the Siren of Sisa, and you showed yourself in front of my crew. It is a frightening power, I know—I felt it, too—I felt it before, in your song, even. I think the catnip may have loosened your power over it. You keep it locked inside yourself. But it’s still there, inside you, ready to burst into bloom.  _I want this part of you._ This is what I have been looking for, and I want to _see_ this part of you. You don’t need to be ashamed. It is truly beautiful. It's one of the wonders of the world.”

I’m shocked at his words. Doesn't he have _any_ modesty? I don't know how to respond for a few moments.

“But didn’t I _embarrass_ you? Not even in front of your crew? I was _licking_ your fingers. I licked your—I even had your—I mean, I _licked you_ in front of your crew!” I can’t even say what I did out loud.

“No. It wasn’t embarrassing. They are _more_ than envious. In fact, if anything, I’m afraid you did your job a little _too_ well. I’m afraid that, while they know you are mine, seeing your... enthusiasm and your gifts may be _too_ enticing for a few members of my crew. I will have to keep an eye on you to ensure they keep their hands to themselves.” 

“What do you mean?” I really don’t understand what he is saying. He continues brushing the tears from my face.

“I mean, I know several of the crew members would do almost _anything_ to get you in their cabins to spend an evening alone with you. I’d give _my life_ to protect you from them.”

I’m quiet for a moment, and then I say, “It’s _not_ going to come to that. I’m a cat of Karou, after all.”

I see Rai’s mouth curve up in amusement. “That, you are, my kitten.”

I’m getting _so_ tired of him calling me that.

“So... are you becoming more aware of the gifts you have, after this evening’s activities? I mean, your gifts as a Siren?”

I think about this for a moment. I’m not really sure what he's talking about.

“I don’t know.” I have this anxious, itchy feeling in my body which still burns and aches for touch. I don’t really _want_ to be having this conversation right now. In fact, why are we talking about this, when there are more _urgent_ matters at hand? I begin again, using a very quiet, timid tone of voice.

“Rai, um, I think I need to—That is, would you mind if I just—Um. Hmm. I’m not sure how to say this. I’m _uncomfortable_ like this. My body needs a release. I was wondering, could I have a little privacy?”

I look up at Rai’s face just in time to see his eyebrows raise in surprise. Then, quite suddenly, he laughs out loud. I’m struck again by what a _beautiful_ sound his laughter is, and it doesn’t help my current condition _at all_. Yet I still find myself getting a little annoyed. I move away from him until my back is pressed against the wall.

“Is _that_ what you have in mind?” Rai says once he manages to get ahold of himself. “I’ll admit, it’s practical. But you know, _I’m_ **right** **here**.” As he murmurs those last three words, he brings his body right up close mine.

Now, I’m struck by exactly how large of a cat he is, and I find myself quite intimidated. He is the commanding captain of this pirate ship, not the cat whose dick I was sucking so fervently just minutes ago—and I need to _stop_ thinking about that because this is just getting  _painful_!

I look up at his face, while his silver hair sweeps across my bare chest, and I desperately try to ignore the sensation. I fail miserably.

“That’s true, but I assumed you would just be tired after all that,” I say in a quiet voice.

“Ho?” Comes his answer. “You _assumed_ that, did you? After you sang me a song like _that_? That’s what you assumed?”

“What _about_ the song? It was _just_ a song! I didn’t sing it on _purpose_!”

“Ho?” Comes the voice again—and I feel him lick me, in quite an aggressive, hungry way, from my collarbone all the way to my throat—almost like he might eat me or even take a bite. I feel gooseflesh there which radiates out into my arms, and a noise escapes me. “You didn’t sing it on _purpose_ , you say? Well, who do you think should take responsibility for it, then, if not you?”

“Gah!” Another gasp comes out of my mouth as he licks me a second time. I’m starting to feel fear— _what if he really does bite me?_ I don’t really know him, and the way he is licking me is _very_ strange, and it’s making me feel so weird, and I don’t know what to do. “ _You’re_ the one who fed me the catnip! I wouldn’t have acted so strange if I hadn’t had the _catnip_! I think it’s probably _your_ fault for giving it to me in the first place, isn’t it?!”

I look at his eye now, meeting my gaze, and it’s _full_ of heat and passion—so much that I’m not sure what I should do. I’m truly frightened—I feel a little like a caged animal, trapped in this bed surrounded by walls on three sides. But is this feeling _really_ fear? Or is it something else? Anticipation? Expectation? _Arousal_?

I take a breath, keeping eye contact, and I reach out to this shining, gorgeous cat above me, reaching into his hair—touching the silver strands falling around his face, floating around his shoulders onto my chest and stomach. I run my hands through the strands—they feel so soft. Like silk. And I remember—this cat is _not_ all hard lines. He is _not_ all hard words. He has been searching for _me_. He is _also_ this silver hair, which is so soft and silky that it tickles when it touches my skin. Even when he acts like he might eat me alive, he _still_ has this hair.

That is when I feel a song begin inside me again—amazingly, it’s another new melody. I don't deliberately sing this tune. It's like something inside me reaches out to him, just like my hands reached out for his hair. I’m not sure where all this music is coming from, but it seems to be bursting forth all at once, all today—and this song is intended for the silver cat hanging over me, right at _this moment_ , too.

This melody is lilting, turning, swirling in my head—and it seems to say, “I’m glad you found me. I was searching for you, too. _I remember you_. My _heart_ remembers you. Even if my mind has forgotten, _my heart_ will never forget. I am _yours_. _Make me yours_.”

I hear this melody coming from my body, and I am utterly shocked and appalled. I don’t know understand where the music or sound or kind-of lyrics are coming from, or what to do in response, or if these are even my thoughts and feelings, but they seem to be coming from me. How can I remember him? Have we met before? Do my heart and body know something my mind has forgotten? I am terrified. I’m afraid of what this giant cat might do to me, when I provoke him like this, offer myself to him like this—except when I see Rai’s response. While the melody indicates I am submitting to him, my mind isn’t _nearly_ ready to do that yet. And my body—gods, my body is in _turmoil_. It’s still so aroused from the catnip and touching Rai’s body earlier it doesn’t know _which way is up_. I think if given a chance, my body would betray my mind in a second and do anything he liked with pleasure. _Absolute pleasure._

But Rai's response is kind and gentle. He calms himself—and he turns into that softer cat again once he hears the melody. He starts caressing me, ever so gently—along my sides and wrapping around my back. My shirt comes off, sliding down my arms. I feel my pants slipping down my legs next. He must have taken my shoes off when he set me on the bed, and I didn’t even notice.

I see him at my feet right now, and he takes one foot in his hands and pops my toes into his mouth. My body jerks at this, but I enjoy the feeling of his tongue on my toes. He’s grooming my toes—quite roughly.

I watch as his tongue licks the sole of my foot and moves up my ankle, working its way around my calf and lower leg—carefully smoothing the hair in the right direction. He’s holding my leg in his hands, and his hands are creeping upwards toward my thigh. He lowers his face along my knee, and then to the inside of my leg and then inside my thigh, and I feel myself blushing. His slow movements and the anticipation of where he is headed makes my dick strain painfully, but I try to keep my mouth closed. I don’t want to listen to these weird sighs coming out of me, but noise keeps leaking out of the corners of my mouth.

I briefly consider fighting him off at this point—but the song in my body is still humming smoothly, and it’s affecting me, too. I want him to take me. I want him to have _all of me_. I’m not exactly sure what that means, but I _want_ it.

I want it so much that my mouth opens, and I hear myself say, “ _All_ of me. I want you to take all of me.”

He looks up right before he reaches my balls, and he answers me. 

“You’re not ready yet. You need to be in heat first before I take you. I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want to do this before you’re ready or before your body is ready. Well, I _want_ to, but I think we need to wait. I can tell it’s coming _soon_. Mating season is not long from now. I’ve heard it’s healthier for you this way. And there are other things we can do until then.”

And then, with that, keeping his eye on me, he envelopes my dripping cock with his mouth, his hand grasping my balls, and I experience an amazing, almost _suffocating_ pleasure. I want to close my eyes in ecstasy, but I don’t want to look away from his face. I can’t look away from his eye, watching me, watching my facial expressions, watching me revel in pleasure. _I know_ that’s what he is doing.

I know that’s what he’s doing because it’s what I did as well, and it’s such an amazing turn on that I can _hardly_ stand it! It feels like only minutes before I’m approaching my limit, and I warn him, “Ah—if you keep this up—I’m going to—I’m almost—I’m about to—please—ah— _please_ — _oh please_ — _Rai_ —“

And yes, I shamelessly call out his name, loudly.

The melody my body is making has changed into something else. It sounds like pure _pleasure_. No words, only pleasure. It’s strange and terribly erotic.I feel shivers running up and down my spine, and when I feel him grip the base of my tail in one hand and the hilt of my dick in the other, I completely lose control. The world flashes white (or silver—in my eyes), and I lose track of my consciousness. Deep waves of pleasure radiate from my hips outward into my stomach and torso—and at the moment, I feel him pull out the jeweled plug from my ass. It sends additional waves of pleasure into my legs, and I can’t help the noise coming out of my mouth now. My body jolts, quakes, and shivers, completely on its own—and the relief I feel afterward is fantastic.

I open my eyes—I squeezed them shut momentarily, I guess—to find Rai’s face hovering over mine. His silver hair is brushing against my body, and his hands are running up and down my sides, leaving trails of ticklish sensation. As soon as my eyes are fully open, he kisses my mouth—my lips first, very softly—then he licks them with his tongue and gains entrance to my mouth. After that climax, I couldn’t resist even if I wanted to. He tastes slightly bitter—and I realize with a shock that I’m tasting myself on his tongue.

When he pulls away, he keeps his hands in my hair, and strokes my ears, lying down behind me on the bed. I feel a little strange—he’s fully clothed, and I’m completely nude—but I’m so relaxed now that I really don’t mind all that much.

“So,” he asks, “was that better than having me step out if the room for a moment?” He pulls my body closer to his, and I feel his tongue on the outside of my ear now, in long, slow, grooming licks, and it sort of tickles. 

I twist my body around to get a better look at his face. Is he _playing_ with me? _Teasing_ me?

“What.” That pale blue eye twinkles in the warm light of the lamps. “Your ears are pink again. I don’t understand how you can make such sounds, do such things with your body, and then have _pink ears_ after all that. It’s quite _adorable_.”

I think he is smiling again, and his teasing is embarrassing me! I can feel the heat absolutely flooding my face now, sinking down into my chest as well. 

“Aww, look! It’s even creeping down to your piercings...” Rai’s voice is filled with more awe than I’d prefer to hear right now, and I turn my face away again, thankful that he's behind me, so I don't have to meet his gaze.

I feel his mouth against my ear immediately, and the words flow in, whispering and low. “You are _amazing_ , you know.”

I still don’t understand what my role is supposed to be, however. A Siren? What does a Siren _do_? What gifts am I supposed to have? Is this a weird sex thing? The thought terrifies me and yet intrigues me at the same time. This is what runs through my mind as I allow his soft grooming strokes to hypnotize me and lull me into sleep. I am asleep by the time he's finished, and he's tucked me into bed, wrapping my body up in a blanket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm well aware the characters, particularly Konoe, are going OOC here. I'm thinking in comparison to how much he tends to get beat up and suffers in the rest of my fics, he deserves a little power. So I'm kind of excited to see how things go from here.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rai's thoughts, his point of view--exposition of how he knows Konoe from years ago. Sorry--this one is pretty sappy.

He’s finally asleep. I notice his small form, rising up and down slowly, as he’s finally allowed himself to relax into my arms. He must be utterly exhausted. I realize he hasn’t eaten much since I’ve had him with me. I wonder briefly if Bardo managed to get him to eat, and I feel a little guilty for using him like I have, without seeing to his nutritional requirements first.

I didn’t really have a choice in the order of how things panned out—we had to take care of the marking and claiming business right away, definitely before another song escaped his lips, if only for his own good. Especially after hearing what he released on deck. Holy shit! My body gives a little shiver when I think about it and how powerful it felt.

My eyes peek over his shoulder to his newly pierced nipples, the gold chain sparkling deliciously under the soft glow of the lamps. I run my finger between the piercings, gently circling the soft skin around each nipple—they look surprisingly healthy, hardly swollen, in fact, which is a good sign. Almost as though they were waiting for the jewelry to be fit through them. They keep his nipples near a constant state of arousal, it seems. I wonder if that will have an effect on calling forth the Siren he’s been trying so desperately to keep hidden from himself and the world.

It’s curious—he knows about his song, but he seems oblivious to its effects on others around him. It’s almost as though he grew up completely isolated and alone. The thought of that makes my heart ache and fill with regret.

I compare this sleeping cat to the one I first encountered in the northern forest of Sisa, nearly eight years ago. I couldn’t have been older than about seventeen at the time—on my own for about seven years, I suppose. And I was more than desperate, newly wounded, having lost my eye only a day or two earlier—I had lost track of time. I was suffering terribly from the loss, in fact, wandering blindly, unable to judge distances, with pain and discouragement, feeling my skills as a fighter were lost along with my eye.

And then—I met him.

He was just a child, a mere kitten. He was alone in the woods. To this day, I regret not taking him with me—even _more_ so today, after watching him with his gift. I _should_ have taken him along with me, but at the time I thought he was just helping with food foraging for his family—which was common in those northern areas, where shortages were still common. The thought of taking something so precious away from loving parents was too difficult, even for someone as hardened as I was. Although, perhaps at that age, I hadn’t yet had all the difficult experiences I had, and I wasn’t as hardened as I am today, which is probably where my compassion came from. 

He was looking for food—foraging and doing a great job for his size. He had a sack he dragged along with him, almost as big as him. I remember how tiny he was, and that he sang as he worked, and how his song was absolutely _mesmerizing_. He looked like he was close to five years old, but it was hard for me to tell, since I’m a larger breed. Perhaps he was closer to ten? Seeing him here with me now, he must have been closer to ten.

I had disguised my presence, so I could watch and listen, quite a distance from him as he worked. But I couldn’t help myself. The song was so soothing. I’d heard tales of such things in my past, from my parents, from Bardo, long ago, that there were cats who could sing and could make things happen, healing, for example, from their song. And there was one, only a kitten, doing just that, right before me at a time I needed it most.

As he was singing, the pain in my eye slowly but surely improved. I ended up startling him when he finally noticed me. He was such a small creature—I look at the cat in my arms now, and he’s still quite small, as a breed. But as the kitten back then, he was nearly white, no brown tipping his ears, maybe only a small amount on his tail, his hair much lighter in color. But I do remember how he fluffed out his hooked tail in aggression, the moment he stumbled across my large white one— _until_ he noticed I was injured. Then his mood shifted 180 degrees.

When he saw my injury—the blood oozing from the socket, that there was no longer any eye there, that something terrible had grazed the wound, something not of this earth— _his song changed_. He approached me, all fear disappearing from his body, entirely confident and unafraid. He was recklessly brave. It was like he changed from a kitten into something completely different—into something not of this earth.

I think he spoke to me, but I can’t remember what he said. His voice was so small, and I remember his song drowning out his words—echoing in my head and in my heart so strongly back then, just like it did out on deck, like it did in here in my quarters, like it did even when he was locked in the brig. With his little hands pressed against my face, and he sang for me as if to soothe the pain I was feeling. 

He also shared his food with me, even though I ate most of what he’d gathered. I felt guilty for taking what this kitten had worked so hard to find, but I couldn’t exactly decline what he was offering. And he gave me water, which he searched hard to find.

And the warmth—he had a warmth about him—a loving, tender warmth. I remember I could smell the warmth in his scent as well—and that is still part of his scent. It’s matured a lot since then, but it’s definitely still there. I just wanted to scoop him up and take him with me. But I couldn’t. I could barely care for myself at the time. What would I do with a kitten like him? I couldn’t take him away from his home, away from his family.

He had a guiding leaf with him which he lit once darkness fell, and he stayed with me until the moon of shadow rose. I asked if he didn’t need to go home, and he didn’t answer. I’ve often wondered about that, for so many years, if perhaps he didn’t have a home to return to, and if I’d been mistaken in not taking him along. But by the rise of the moon of light, he was gone. 

And so was the pain in my eye. I couldn’t believe it. It had healed almost completely—including that evil feeling that the devil who’d stolen it had left behind. Occasionally I will still get headaches behind that eye, which are becoming more frequent, the older I get—which has been the impetus behind me wanting to find him again. But he was the one who healed me—with his song.

Now, as I look at the sleeping cat in my arms, I’m amazed I’ve finally found him. He’s changed—he’s not the small white kitten he once was. His blonde hair has darkened to ash, and his ears are tipped with the same brown as his tail. But I remember his tail was uniquely crooked like that. And the song he sings—it’s the same feeling.

And he remembers me. At least—that’s what his song said. His _heart_ remembers me. The Siren inside of him remembers.

A part of me is frightened by his power. I would do anything for him. I’ve been searching for him for years—it’s been almost eight years. I would kill every last person on this ship to protect this cat—and that frightens me. Why would I go so far? Because he is important. I have a strange connection to him. And yes, I find him physically attractive, possibly even irresistible. But it isn’t only sexual attraction. It’s more than that.

At least, I think it’s more than sex. After that interaction above deck, I’m frankly shocked. Bardo warned me of the Siren’s power, a sexual power, but I guess I never really took it seriously. I’ve had some experience with sex. But I’ve always been able to control myself. Today, above deck, there wasn’t a chance in hell I could have withdrawn from what he was doing to me. I don’t think I could have. And that was a brand new, and frankly, welcome experience for me. I’ve longed for something like that for such a long time. It feels like he’s found a hole in my heart and filled the gap himself. I can’t stand the thought of him ever leaving.

I _’ve never had someone have this kind of power over me._

But the thought of someone else even touching him makes me furious—I can’t stand thinking about it. I don’t want to even consider it. Even letting Bardo bathe him was done out of necessity, and that was somewhat of a hardship.

As I think about these things, I notice my hands possessively running over the small cat’s lithe body, and he allows me to do this while he sleeps—even leaning into my touch just a little, making soft satisfied sounds. _Irresistible_. Has he adjusted so quickly? From living alone, protecting himself? To allow me to touch him like this? Or did he perhaps have a lover at home?

That thought fills me with a flash a rage—just for a moment—but it’s pointless. He’s gone now if he had one. I wonder, does he find me attractive? He certainly responds to me in a positive way. Not just as though he remembered me, but he responds like a lover might. And his song—the words in his last song—gods, they were so tempting! I wonder how I was able to withstand the temptation. Except for his age. I know he is young. He must go through heat first. It is a tradition in Setsura to allow a male to experience his first heat before taking him in that way. I need to let him mature on his own, regardless of what he says. I don’t care if he is a Siren. I need to stand firm.

I realize my hands are resting on Konoe’s hip. His waist curves in, his hips curve out; it’s a significant difference. I allow my hands to run down the line of his buttocks—ah, the curve is perfect—just perfect—and he fits so snugly against the shape of my own body, like he was made for me. 

I wonder why I didn’t take him with me all those years ago. I need to ask him about his childhood years, ask what he remembers, ask if he remembers what he did for me. It will be fine if he doesn’t remember. Maybe better if he doesn’t. Maybe it’s all right he didn’t come along with me—we’d have ended up like brothers, or worse, like father and son. This is so much better. Worth the wait, I think. Worth every sacrifice I’ve made.

I lean into his hair once more. His scent is simply delicious. I don’t know if I’m the only cat to detect it, however, and that’s a little unnerving. If the others on the ship pick up this scent as well, we could be in for some trouble. Maybe Bardo is right to mask it with catnip, even if it brings out the Siren in him a bit more aggressively. I’m sure I can deal with the consequences. We can keep him locked up in my chambers, in the worst case scenario.

I run my hands through his soft, full hair, and lick his pierced ear again. He makes a small noise. I know in my heart that this is the same cat as the one who saved me all those years ago. Grown, he is one hundred times more attractive, of course, but he was adorable as a kitten, too. Even then, I thought he was irresistible. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rai gets to work on helping mask Konoe's scent with catnip oil. This has the side effect of bringing on symptoms that look like heat but aren't, much to both their frustration.
> 
> So yeah. Fluffy. Sickeningly fluffy.

I wake to a delightful scent prickling my nose: herbal and minty—catnip, I suspect. It smells like the water that Bardo bathed me in before, only quite a bit stronger. It makes sense, too, when I see the steaming tub in the middle of the Captain’s quarters.

When I sit up in bed, I see Rai unbuttoning his shirt. I wonder— _is he getting in_? I haven’t seen him completely naked yet, so naturally, I’m curious. He looks up and catches me watching him, surprising me—and embarrassing me. He grins—but I know he caught me looking.

He walks up to the bed, stripping off his shirt.

“Like what you see?” He asks. “Don’t start acting all shy now. I know who you really are, even under these blushing ears of yours.” His hands reach out to my ears, even as I try to escape his grasp. I don’t like him pointing out my easily-blushing ears. _Won’t this obvious shyness_ ever _disappear?_  
  
I shouldn’t be surprised. These are _all_ new experiences for me after all. For the first time, I’m in close quarters with another cat. Second, I’m actually _interested_ in another cat—well, specifically, in his body—that is _really_ new. Perhaps “interested” isn’t the right word. “Fascinated” would be a much better description, I think.

I feel my face heating up, from only _thinking_ of the word “fascinated,” and I cast my eyes down to avoid his stare. He is currently busily “fascinated” with my ears, so I don’t think he’s noticed how much my blushing has increased.  
  
“Did you have a nice nap? Are you hungry?”

As soon as he asks, my stomach makes a loud growl, as if in reply. I find myself ravenous.

“I’m not at all surprised to see you’ve worked up an appetite. Let’s do some multi-tasking. We’ve got some work to do, little one. Why don’t you help yourself to some food and hop into the tub while you’re at it? We’ve got to mask this scent of yours.”

“My scent?” I ask—and this time, I do look up and meet his gaze.

“Yes. The scented oil in the bathwater should help, and I will groom you afterward. I’m warning you now, though: what you’re smelling is catnip. So you may find it slightly intoxicating, and it may make you experience symptoms that feel like going into heat, but aren't."

“Intoxicating?” I ask. “All right, if you think that’s for the best.” I have no idea what he means by “going into heat,” however. Bardo mentioned it yesterday, too. I’m embarrassed that I don’t know. I look at him again and figure I should just ask. “I don’t know anything about this heat stuff. Bardo mentioned it, and you did yesterday, too. But I never learned about it. My mother died when I was five or six, and I never met my father. I grew up alone in Karou, isolated from other cats. I’m sorry.” I’m truly ashamed of not knowing—it seems important, and not knowing feels like a shortcoming. I look at my feet in shame.

“Alone? Wait. You’ve been fending for yourself since you were five?” Rai’s voice has softened slightly from its playful tone. He sounds intense, and he sounds a bit regretful at the same time.

“Yes. The other cats would have gladly seen me starve. One less mouth feeding off the land. But I managed to survive on my own.” I’m quite proud of having survived, even if my education isn’t complete. I search his face, and he looks a little forlorn.

“Ah. I see.” Rai drops his gaze to the floor. I see he’s poured himself a glass of wine and has helped himself to the food as well, while nodding to the tub, encouraging me to get in it. “So, er, yes. The heat. The mating season.” He clears his throat and drinks from his glass. “Twice per year, the next period usually starts within the next seven days or so, Ribika of a certain age go into heat. Even at sea, sailors experience symptoms in the same week. Not all cats enter heat at the same time, of course, nor on the same day. There are variability and compatibility to consider. It’s been a while since _I’ve_ found someone compatible.” _Glancing up at me again, catching my eye, just for a moment, before concentrating on the food again._  
  
“Wait, two males can be compatible?” I’m a little surprised to hear this. Wouldn’t producing young be the point? I step into the tub, taking the opportunity of Rai helping himself to food to sneak in since I’m not currently dressed. I’m still not terribly bold when I’m naked, I guess.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t they be?”

“Well, isn’t the purpose of the mating season to produce young?” I ask. It may be a stupid question, but that is the point, right?

Rai pauses a moment. “I suppose from a genetic standpoint it was. But wouldn’t you want to experience pleasure, wherever you happen to be, with whomever you happen to be traveling?” I notice he’s removed the rest of his clothing while we’ve been chatting, and I hadn’t noticed. Damn it. He climbs into the bath behind me—the tub is easily large enough for two cats my size, but he’s a lot larger than I am and takes up much more room. The water level rises quite a bit once he gets in. “See?”

He merely brushes my shoulder, and I feel something akin to an electric shock. It doesn’t hurt—in fact, it feels quite good—but it surprises me. It sends a lovely wave a pleasure down the length of my body, much to my surprise.

“Ah!” I can’t help exclaiming. “What was that?”

“That’s what your body feels like when it’s compatible with another cat. You will get an obvious signal.”

“Um, ah, I see.” I’m a little taken aback. I wait a moment, but I have a ton of questions. So—he and I are compatible, then? Wait—am I in heat now? Oh, wait—these are the symptoms that the catnip mimic, right? I don’t want to seem too eager, after all. He gets comfortable in the tub behind me, and pulls me back against his chest—and I feel that singeing heat again when we touch. I don’t remember feeling that yesterday, and I feel a little breathless when I ask my next question. “What are the other symptoms of going into heat?”

He sighs into my ear, wrapping his arms around my chest. He’s surprisingly relaxed, considering we’re in the bath together, and naked. I’m not nearly so relaxed. “Well, the symptoms are what you’d expect. Increase in body temperature, possible fever, heightened sexual desire, lewd thoughts, body pains and aches, headache, excessive thirst, and sometimes feelings similar to a common cold. Did I mention lewd thoughts are common?”

 _You did, twice, in fact._ “Does it feel different from… well, is it different from just every day, erm…— well, what I mean is… I mean, is being in heat different from regular desire?” I feel my ears heating up again. I don’t really have anything to compare this to, I suppose, but I want to know if it’s different from what I felt yesterday.

“Oh? Are you asking, when you’re in heat, is your sexual desire different from when you’re not in heat?” I’m a little surprised by his directness, especially considering that he wasn't very anxious about answering my questions earlier. I risk a look behind me, just to take a quick peek at his face—there’s no way to do that subtly because of how I’m sitting, but I _have_ to gauge what he’s thinking since I can’t tell from his voice—and Rai has a strangely mischievous look in his eye. “That kind of depends on how horny you are on an ordinary day, doesn’t it?” 

 _What? Did he_ really _just go there?_

I turn around, facing forward again—there’s _no way_ I can even _look_ at him now—and I feel him lick my ear. It feels so strange— _not_ like grooming at all. I feel those sparks like electricity running through my body, down my spine to the tip of my tail, and it’s making me jump. It’s not painful, however. It’s filling me with an insatiable delight. And it’s scaring me. I’m getting a really strange feeling, building in my body. I feel blood pooling in the lower half of my body as it starts to heat up.

I hear his low, whispering voice in my ear. “I’m not sure I’m the _best_ person to answer that question. Maybe you can tell me how often you usually think about sex. For example… Are you thinking about it right _now_?”

He has perfect access to my ears the way I’m sitting on his lap. He is licking them gently, using long, slow, nearly torturous strokes. I feel one of his hands against my chest, palm flat against my bare skin. He whispers directly into my ear again.

“ _Are you?_ ” The other hand presses against on my stomach, below the water line, making me involuntarily curve it inwards and press my back against his body. He moves his hand from my chest around my back and then down toward the base of my tail, making a strange, eager sound leak out of my mouth. It’s a noise I am shocked to hear and even more embarrassed to be making. 

“Wait! Aren’t we just _talking_ here?” I cover both his hands with mine, trying to stop his advances. “I don’t think we’re done with this conversation yet!” I try to squirm out of his grip, splashing water outside of the tub, but he doesn’t let go of my body. “Besides, aren’t you still eating?”

I thought I was hungry—but it seems my body has changed its mind and direction and is headed toward something else entirely. Maybe this is what symptoms of heat feel like? I can feel my body shivering, even in the warmth of the water. That ache he was talking about? Is this it? It feels like a longing, I think. My chest starts to ache, too, and my heart is pounding.

“You _do_ need to get some food in your body,” he says, almost thoughtfully. He takes a slice of bread from the table and feeds me a bite. Strangely, I obey him without hesitation, keeping my hand on his, which is gripping my tail. He starts massaging it, right at the base.

“You know, you have scent glands, right here,” he squeezes the base of my tail with his last words. “When I massage your tail underwater like this, I’m hoping the catnip oil will cover some of your scent. Otherwise, we may end up with a small a problem.” His voice sounds strangely cheerful. His voice is starting to echo oddly in my ears.  
  
“A problem?” I ask. “What kind of problem?”

“Well, you’re going to have the crew beating down the door. I could smell you from the hallway.”  
  
A small indignant sound escapes my mouth. “What? I’m not doing anything on purpose!”

Rai smiles. “I know you aren’t doing any of this intentionally. This is a good sign, little one. This means the Siren part of you is awakening. I’ve read about what to expect, and your body is different from other cats. Once you finally go into heat, your symptoms will be more intense, last longer, with more side effects.”

“More side effects… but the catnip will help?” I’m concerned, and I try to smell myself. The idea of the crew coming for an unexpected visit isn’t attractive to me. Well, actually, if I’m honest, right this very minute it _might_ be attractive, and _that’s_ even more disconcerting!

“Bathing in itself won’t help, but the scented water should.” He’s watching me trying to smell myself with a bemused smile. “I don’t think you can smell it. It’s hormonal. You don’t smell bad, though—not at all. You smell very _warm_. And _inviting_.”

“Inviting?” I’m surprised by his choice of words.

“As in, inviting other cats to sample your… gifts, shall we say?” He examines my face again.

 _Oh, my gods._ “That’s not—that isn’t—“ I can feel the blood rushing to my ears. Maybe it’s just the hot water? I cover my face with my hands, pulling my knees up and hugging them close. “That isn’t what I intend at all!”  
  
“I know,” Rai answers. “I said so before. This is your Siren song in pheromone form. We just have to be careful. I only want to keep you safe. You _do_ remember what I told you on your first day with me, don’t you?”

I think carefully, but the scent is making feel a little fuzzy. “I don’t.”  
  
**“I don’t share.”**

“Oh. Right.” He doesn’t share. That means he won’t share me. I guess that’s good. I won’t be giving the entire crew blow jobs. I guess that’s a good thing. It seems my thoughts are loosening up a bit. Especially since I can think about blowjobs so easily. _I just did it again!_ Hah! _It must be the catnip._

“Are you all right?” His voice sounds a little stranger still.

“I’m fine.” I smile, more easily now.

“Why don’t you eat a little more?” His voice sounds concerned. He hands me a piece of dried fruit, and the most _delicious_ sweet and then sour flavor spreads across my mouth. I sigh with absolute _delight_ at the taste, and Rai’s eye opens wide at my response. “You like those, I guess?”

“Ah—yes—aah—my favorite. Can I have more? Ah—mmm. Ah, _gods_ , that’s good. Ah, _mmm_. Mmmm.” I can’t help the noise that comes out of my mouth while I’m eating this dark purple dried fruit. It’s delicious! I mean, it’s just dried fruit, but it must be the catnip, or possibly the catnip-induced Siren inside me—but I _adore_ this fruit. The noise I’m making is bordering on obscene. I briefly consider what people walking by might think if they heard my eating outside the cabin. They would definitely get a completely _inappropriate_ impression! I have to giggle at that!

“Would you like another?” Rai gives me another, slightly concerned at how much I'm enjoying the fruit.

“ _Oh my gods_ , this is delicious—ah! _Mmm_.“ Purple juice and saliva are dripping from my mouth into the bathwater. It’s a beautiful color. I don’t know if I like the sweet or the sour taste better. I think the combination is just perfect! I am drooling before I even pop it in my mouth, and bring another whole fruit to my mouth. _Gods, this is nearly as good as sex!_ In fact, I think this might meet my current need. Maybe just one more…

“Konoe, that’s your _fourth_ kuim. Maybe you should slow down a little, or have something else. I don’t want you to upset your digestive system.” Rai gives me a piece of bread, feeding it to me. I take a bite, and there isn’t anything wrong with it, but I’d _much_ rather have another kuim.

“Aren’t there any more left?” I ask, desperate for more of that intense flavor.

“Fortunately, I think you’ve eaten them all.” Rai sounds relieved. “You’d be sick if you had any more. You’re just a little thing, and I can’t imagine eating that much fruit at once could _possibly_ be good for your system.” He sounds downright worried. Who knew he was such a worrywart?

“Can you find me some more? I didn’t know you worried so much. You sound like an old washerwoman.” I’m rather desperate for more of that flavor. “They just taste so _good_!” I’ve turned around in the bathtub, straddling Rai in the water, and he has a downright terrified look in his eye.  
  
“Konoe, I promise I will find you more for your next meal, but for now, you must eat something else. Try this cheese. It’s tasty, too.” He feeds me a piece of cheese on top of bread. It tastes fine, but it’s _nothing_ like the kuim.

“Ah—I’d rather have more kuims! Aren’t there anymore? Can you call Bardo and ask to bring me more? Please? I will be _good--I will be so good_ —“

Rai leans over and kisses me suddenly. It’s a very sweet and gentle kiss—but I can feel his lips curving slightly and tasting my mouth—and I taste the wine in his mouth as well. He tastes a little like kuim, in fact. _I know it’s him_ —and not me.

“May I have a sip of wine?” I ask, waiting patiently for him to pour me a glass. As soon as he does, I say excitedly, “I think it might taste like kuims!”

“Oh, you can try, but I think you’ll be disappointed,” Rai says, hands me the glass. He sounds amused again. _He’d better not be making fun of me._ I don’t care that much, as long as I can taste some more of that sweet and sour flavor. I’m not sure why I need it right now, but it is just really hitting the spot.

I try a small sip. I actively dislike the first sip. But after the second sip, I can taste the kuim flavor I tasted in Rai’s mouth before. Then, I have an idea.

I present the glass to Rai, still sitting in the tub on his lap facing him, waiting patiently for him to take a sip. “Here. For you.”

As soon as he takes a sip, I kiss him on the mouth, and _that’s_ when I taste the kuim flavor. _It’s perfect_ —and I can feel my entire body erupt into a loud purr. The sweet and then sour flavor—it comes from _Rai_ —when _he_ drinks the wine. It’s wonderful!

“Ahh—mmm—it’s perfect! _You’re_ _perfect_!“ I can’t help myself, my exclamations are in full force. “You taste amazing! Just like kuims. Let’s try it again!” And I give him another sip and kiss him once more.

“I wonder, is it possible for you to get drunk from wine secondhand like this?” Rai asks. “Or is this a side effect of the catnip? Come, little one. Let’s get you out of the bath before you hurt yourself, ridiculous cat.”

He helps me out of the tub, and I can’t keep my mouth off of his. He indulges me in the wine and continues letting me kiss him, without getting too annoyed. In fact, he doesn’t act like I’m being annoying. It occurs to me only later that I may have been slightly annoying. He can’t keep his hands off me either, though, so I think we’re pretty fair.

He dries me off with a towel and then brings me to the bed. He gently dries my hair, making sure I’m not too cold. I notice there’s a big difference between my body temperature and the room. “It’s cold in here,” I remark. I’d feel better if I had another kuim, I think.

“Don’t say it,” Rai looks at me. “You’ve had more than enough kuims. Your face is purple from the juice and now the wine, and you just got out of the bath. Stupid cat. Such a messy eater.” Despite the harsh words, I see the corners of his mouth are still raised. He tilts up my chin and licks the juice clean.

He cuddles me up in a blanket, and tucks me into the bed, crawling in behind me, big spoon style. Next, it seems to be time for grooming, and he starts enthusiastically—and I mean, _enthusiastically_!—from head to tail. He does my hair and ears like I would normally do, and I’m getting sleepy at this point. I hear a rumbling purr whisper, “Sleep.” So I try my best.

I really try to.

But it’s difficult when his tongue starts licking my back, my spine, my tail, the base of my tail, the sensitive hooked part— _what’s he doing there? And oh my gods, is he between my legs now?_ “It’s a scent gland thing,” he says. _I’m sure that’s what it is. What the hell?_

 _I can’t sleep if he’s all over me like this. Who can sleep when someone is licking them like this?_ Grooming is one thing, but this is downright ridiculous! I’m going to plan some kind of payback. But he’s way bigger than I am, and he can pin my arms down in just one hand. _It’s so unfair! And his hair is covering me and tickling me like this._

I wonder—is his scent really masking mine, or is it exasperating mine? It’s hard to tell. And now, I’m getting even more worked up than I was before, so I wonder how much of this he is just making up. _This is so frustrating!_

“What.” His deep voice says (not asking) from his whatever embarrassing position he is currently in. _How can he do this with a straight face like that?_

“Argh—wh-what are you trying to do to me?” I try to keep my noise to a minimum, but it’s hard to keep sighs from leaking out.

“Just sleep. This is a natural instinct, inborn to our race. It’s in your genes. Just relax into it.”

I can hear the teasing in his voice. I know he’s making fun of me. “Now you’re just being mean!” I accuse him.

“If you hate it so much, just fight me off. I don’t see you going anywhere. And from the noises coming out of you, it doesn’t exactly sound like you hate it.”

“Shut up!” I almost shout. I’m so embarrassed.

“Aw, your ears are pink again. It’s like they stay pink, just for me. I love it. So cute.” Rai sits up a little more, pinning my arms above my head, so he can reach my ears again. “You. You just sleep.”

I would sleep if I could.

“You seem a bit crabby now. I bet you’d feel better if you took a little nap.” He gently caresses my chest and stomach, still keeping my arms pinned against the bed. “Why not rest a while.”

“Ah, stop, enough!” I try to lunge up and bite the tip of his nose, but I can’t reach. He sees that I tried, however.  
  
“Cute. Come now. Rest.” He wraps a blanket around the both of us, even tighter than before, and hugs me from behind. His chin pokes over my shoulder, and I try to close my eyes.

“Are you really going to let me rest now?”

“I’ve been encouraging you to sleep this entire time,” Rai exclaims. Then he mutters, “What are you saying. Accusing me of torturing you? You. _You_ are the ruthless one. Smelling the way you do. Having a scent like this, and ears like that. When are you finally going to just go into heat, damn it! I’m tired of waiting.” I can see his long lashes from over my shoulder, as he closes his eye.  
  
He actually does sound impatient. But it seems like he’s letting me sleep. I waste no time and settle down immediately, closing my eyes and relaxing in his arms. He smells so good. Sweet, powerful, warm. Delicious.

The only thing that could make me feel better is if I had one more kuim.

“No,” Rai says. “You’ve already had too many. You’ll make yourself sick if you have any more. Sleep.” _Gods, I didn’t even say it out loud! Can he read my fucking mind?_


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, when mating season happens to Sirens, it comes on full force. Rai plays with fire and meets the Siren in person in this chapter.
> 
> Surprisingly, this chapter is actually mostly consensual (well, mostly consensual in the LBTV world at least), but it's all sticky, sexy time. Be forewarned.

When I wake, I find myself alone in the captain’s quarters. My head is painfully throbbing, and I feel stiflingly hot. When I climb out of bed, I’m still naked. _Of course._ My mind is fuzzy from the last evening’s activities. I can’t tell if it’s day or night since I’m below deck. I would normally want to see the moon of light, but not today. My head is _killing_   me.

I pull on a pair of black underwear that’s been left out for me, and I see a pile of fresh clothing as well. Different clothes than before. This looks like a robe, but I can’t think clearly enough to figure it out, and I’m too damned hot. I’m tempted to just stay naked.

There’s fresh food, and I’m starving. I eat some of the freshly baked bread, some meat, and fruit—including dried kuims, my favorite—but they leave a weird taste in my mouth for some reason. I have no idea why. I drink a lot of water. I abstain from any other drink besides water. _Did I drink alcohol yesterday? Is that why I feel like this?_ Just looking at the bottle makes me feel a little sick, so I throw a napkin over it so I don’t have to look at it. That helps.

I don’t plan to go anywhere, except back to bed, with my head pounding like this—but I have this strange itchy feeling in my body like I need to get out of this room. I try the door and discover it’s locked from the outside. _Shit. Rai has locked me inside the room. What the hell?_ I’m surprisingly upset to discover this.

Although, I admit I did just try to leave. And in only my underwear.  _But it’s a ship! Where could I go on a ship?_ It’s not like I can escape or get into any trouble. Maybe he really is worried about me—and it seems he was yesterday. Something about mating season comes back to my mind, but it’s awfully fuzzy. _Is mating season happening soon?_ I can’t remember. _Actually, am I feeling symptoms of the mating season now?_

I head back to the bed and sit back down with a sigh. I feel the ship rocking, which is a little unusual. I thought I’d gotten my sea legs a while back, and I haven’t noticed any movement for quite some time. I wonder if we’ve hit a rough patch of sea. There’s a map out on the table—I could get up and look at it, but that would require effort, so I consider it carefully.

I decide in favor. I barely make it to the table, as my steps are getting weaker, and have to sit down. I study the map. It looks like there are some lines drawn out, indicating an island. I look at the characters closely, again wishing I’d had more practice reading. It looks like the island is called “Midorijima.” I’ve never heard of it. _That looks like our next destination._ I wonder if we’re getting close.

I hear someone in the hallway, and several voices approach the door.

“Oy,” an unfamiliar loud voice sounds, right outside the door, startling me. It isn’t Bardo, and I know it isn’t Rai. I sit up straight, my ears tipped toward the door. “Oy, Siren. We can smell you in there. Let us in. We want to _play_ with you. The Captain has been hogging you for the past few days, and we think he should share. There’s _plenty_ of you to go around, or you wouldn’t be smelling like _that_.”

“Yeah—you smell so _good_ ,” another voice pipes in. “Let me in, too. We can even take you back to our room. We heard you sing on the deck. We like your voice. It’s pretty. We think you should sing for us, too.”  
  
“Yeah, sing for us, sing for us! We’re totally, er, _in the mood_ , if you catch my drift. And we could totally be down for some of that shit you pulled on deck. I’ve never seen the Captain lose his shit like that. Not for anything, not for anyone. We call him the Ice Queen behind his back! Hell, you must be something else.”  
  
“We don’t know what you were up to last night, but we happened to be walking past this room yesterday, and shit! Something hot was going down! Whatever it was, just know between the two of us, we’ve got _twice_ as much experience as he does. And we’re _way_ more open to new experiences. We can teach you stuff he knows _nothing_ about!”

“So, unlock the door, and let us in. We don’t have to tell anyone. We can be real quick about it!”

I get goosebumps on the back of my neck as they are talking, and a sick feeling in my stomach. At least it’s not locked from the outside with a key in the door, I suppose. _I should be safe in here, right?_ I decide it’s in my best interest not to say anything, so I keep quiet for a few minutes.

There’s a loud crash against the door, which makes me jump out of my skin, and yell in surprise. It must have been one of the cats outside banging against the door.  
  
“Yeah, we _heard_ you. We _know_ you’re in there. _Quit fucking around_ and open the damn door.”

“Just open the door. We know you _want_ to. We can smell it on you.”

I’m afraid they might break the door down, and I don’t know what to do. So I answer, “I can’t. I’m locked in.”

“What the _fuck_? You’re locked in?”

“Shit, that kinda puts a damper on our plans. We better find a way to get a key. Can’t exactly break down the door without expecting some consequences.”

“Ah, man, someone's coming—let’s split—quick—“ And the footsteps make a hasty retreat.

My ears pick up a third presence—this one sounds like Rai—who makes an appearance with a key. He unlocks the door and comes in. He doesn’t look happy. I notice he locks the door behind him, and gives me an uneasy look and does an _immediate_ double-take.

“Oh, little one, you are _not_ looking good. Are you feeling all right? It looks like it’s finally starting.” He approaches me. “First, I apologize you had to listen to those two—they won’t bother you again. I’ll make sure of it when we’re done here. I’d take care of it now, but you look like you’re rather desperate."

He crouches in front of my chair and puts his hand against my ears, appraising my temperature—or perhaps he’s just caressing my ears, who the fuck knows at this point? However—his touch has an unexpected effect: my ears radiate with a jolt of fiery electricity that launches me from my chair in shock, tearing a near-sob from my throat. And then the jolts changes, sending pulsing waves of pleasure into my hips. The pleasure is amazingly strong—almost like the direct after-effects of an orgasm. I look at him in surprise. This was _nothing_ at all like the singeing touch I felt yesterday, and I feel a stab of fear in my chest.

“What _is_ this? What was _that_?” My body starts to quiver from the tips of my ears, which are folded flat against my head, to my tail, which is fluffed out in its fullest form. _This can’t be normal. Is this what being in heat feels like? What the hell?_

Once I’m on my feet, my vision starts to gray out around the edges, and I feel myself becoming faint, instantly. I feel myself becoming queasy, and try to move back toward the chair. Rai gets up to try to catch me, but as he comes closer, I realize _he_ is the problem. I get fainter and fainter, the closer he gets.

“No, n-no—don’t touch me—“ I protest. But I’m too late, and when he picks me up, the places he touches (my shoulders to steady me, and then my back and behind my knees, when he lifts me up bridal style) send those shocks through my body again. Those obscene, lewd sounds come out of me again, even when I shove my hands in front of my mouth, trying to prevent them from leaking out.

“This isn’t going to work—“ I say, rather desperately.

“This is _normal_ ,” Rai assures me.

“This is too _much_ , too painful,” I say. I’m trembling so much I can hardly breathe.

“Did you get something to eat, first?” Rai asks.

“Yes,” I answer.

“Did you find the kuims?”  
  
I’m surprised to hear that he knows I like them. “Uh, yes. Why?”

He looks at me, lying on the bed, and brushes my bangs away from my forehead. They are stuck there, because my head is so sweaty, and I make another strange sound, trying to squirm away from his touch. He removes his coat and starts to unbutton his shirt.

“It hurts? Your body hurts?”

“Yes.”

“I can make it better.”  
  
My heart is beating out of my chest—it’s beating hard and fast, and my mouth is dry. I’m panting already. I don’t know what to do, and I can’t calm down. I feel like I might panic.

“Konoe, you’re going to be fine. This is normal.”  
  
“This doesn’t feel normal!” I sit up. “This hurts like a motherfucker!” I shout at him. “Every time you touch me, I am getting painful shocks, not just on the surface of my skin, but then, it’s completely overwhelming—like—“ and I’m not going to be able to finish my sentence.

“What does it feel like?” He’s down to his last button, and he’s stripping off his shirt, and his chest is bare and painfully beautiful. Another sigh comes out of my mouth.

“I can’t. I just can’t.” I avert my eyes, so I don’t have to look at him.

“What? Why can’t you tell me? Are you ashamed? I’ve already seen you naked, little one. I groomed every last inch of your body this morning. There is no part of you have haven’t seen. You have nothing to be embarrassed about, nothing to be ashamed of. Tell me, so I can help you.”

“Uh.” I guess he has a valid point. I speak quietly. “Um. I feel a shock, and then a wave of pleasure ripples through my body. It feels like the pleasure I felt right after… I… came in your mouth the other day.” I mutter the words very quietly, feeling my blush rising precariously.

“I couldn’t hear you. You are speaking too softly. What did you say?”  
  
I look at him. _Seriously? Shit._ It looks like he is being serious. _Maybe he really didn’t hear me. Shit._

“It feels the pleasure I felt like… like right after I came in your mouth.”

“I see. Oh… Oh! Ok. Wow. So yeah. Um, that’s intense.” He looks at me and pauses a moment. Then he touches my ears with his finger, as an experiment. “Even from something like this?” I release more pleasured sounds again—that same lewd sighing, “aaahh!” The shock is followed by a rippling sensation through my body and the tell-tale quiver. “Ho? Amazing! So sensitive.” Wait. Is he smiling? Does he think this funny?

“Please—no—I can’t—not yet—I can’t,” I beg. “ _Please_ — _stop this_. I can’t do this.” I try my best to scoot away from him on the bed, but I can hardly move.

“It’s no wonder you’re not feeling well. I promise you will feel better soon.” I regard his face, and his eye displays an almost predatory look, which frightens me. “I’m sorry this is bordering on painful—that is typical for most cats, especially their for their first mating season. Your body wants you to take action. I promise it will be worth it. Will you trust me?”

He is kneeling on the bed next to me, and just his close proximity is making me feel more flustered. I don’t know what to do. But he sounds earnest like he wants to help.

“I don’t know—maybe I should just rest instead—“ I am still hesitant.

“Konoe.” He reaches out to my face again, grabbing my chin, making another one of those waves of pleasure run through my body. He doesn’t let go of me this time, though, and the pleasure gradually fades. It’s so embarrassing to make these sighs right to his face, while he’s observing me so closely. I feel my ears burning, and he glances at them.

“I don’t want you to see me like this…” I cast my eyes to the side, _really_ not wanting to be seen.

“Why not?” Rai seems surprised. “I know you act shy about these things, but really, there’s a part of you that takes to it like a duck takes to water. Embrace this part of yourself. Don’t push it away or try to hide it. Don’t fight it. You’ll feel much better.” There’s a sincere persuasion in his voice.  
  
I still feel my body trembling, and I don’t want him to notice, but he will probably feel it since he’s sitting so close. I try pressing myself further against the mattress, to steady myself. Of course, it doesn’t help.

“ _Konoe_.” He calls my name again. I have to confess, it pulls on my heart in an exciting way. I love hearing my name from his lips, but hearing it now is on an entirely different level. I bravely meet his eye. He continues in a soft voice. “I’ve read about this. You’re experiencing true symptoms of heat, and yes, for the Siren, they are intense. But I’ve gone through this before myself. I know what to do to make you feel better. Will you let me help you? Won’t you put yourself in my care, in my hands?”

From where I am lying, I simply watch his expression, trying to gauge his sincerity. He just locked me inside his quarters, but he had a damn good reason to do so. (Those two sailors were two good reasons, in fact, for his actions.) I think he might be trustworthy. And what options do I have, really? Wait it out? He was able to help me before, so perhaps he might be able to again. 

“I’ve been waiting to spend time with you like this. Longing for this.” His voice suddenly sounds much deeper, almost like he’s struggling to breathe. It sends another wave of pleasure through me, the same as if he had touched me, starting from the delicate fur in my ears and radiating downward. “Please, let me help you.”

 _Gods, he sounds as desperate as I feel._ I find it incredibly compelling that he has started to lose his cool, and I am intrigued. Actually, I find it irresistible.

In as soft of voice as I can manage, I whisper my consent. “OK. I will try. What do I have to do?”

“Not a thing. I will handle everything.” He leans down—the air between us heating up a thousand-fold before our lips connect. I’m so nervous I can’t move—and I don’t understand where my anxiety is coming from—it’s not as though he’s never kissed me! In fact, a fuzzy memory of me kissing him surfaces in my mind as I feel his tongue exploring my mouth, stroking my tongue roughly. I’m a little surprised by the memories of my own forcefulness. _Was that really me? What_ the hell was _wrong with me? Who was that person? Was that the Siren?_

After the initial shocks of pleasure have calmed from our lips touching, it feels amazing and comforting to have him kissing me. I’m surprised by this as well—and I find that his touch soothing. And it isn’t a gentle kiss at all—he is roughly taking my mouth, and I hear strange utterances from my throat, which I am ashamed I can't control.

I am increasingly discouraged with trying to suppress my voice. I find my ears drooping, my tail lashing against the bed, and frustration building in my body. Tears prick the corners of my eyes. Again. It’s distracting me from this wonderful feeling. Why can’t I control myself and stop this embarrassing, distracting noise?

Rai must have noticed, because he pulls away from me, and asks, “What’s wrong? What is it?” He examines my face, his low voice full of concern. “Oh, no. The kissing didn’t hurt you, did it? Did I hurt you?”

“N-no. It was comforting, and it felt good. I just…“ I don’t know how to continue. I’m too ashamed. I’m not going to be able to say this, either.

“Come on,” Rai states, matter-of-factly. “It can’t possibly be more embarrassing than explaining how you feel when we touch.” He gives me a gentle, crooked smile.

“No, I suppose not,” I return his smile, a little dejectedly. “I am embarrassed by all the sounds coming out of me, and I’m trying to control myself. And I can’t. I can’t control my voice at all.”

Rai’s eye widens and says a little too quickly, “Oy, no—don’t stifle your voice.”

“Eh?” A stupid sound drops from my lips, but it can’t be helped. “Why not? It sounds so lewd, and anyone walking by could hear. Like those two sailors earlier…”

“No, don’t even try,” he insists. “I want to hear _everything_. I want to hear _you_. I don't know what feels good if you don’t provide feedback, and you tend to be a little reserved at times. If you can’t control your voice, that’s even better. Then I’ll know your body is being honest, and I’ll know if I should keep going or try something else.”

I am quiet for a moment. I hadn’t thought of things in this way. The thought of letting my voice run rampant is a little nerve-wracking. “You don’t hate the sound of it?” I think I sound so desperate and weak.

“Konoe.” Rai touches my chin again. “I _love_ the sound of your voice. Please don’t think of stifling it.”

Just a few tears slip down my cheeks—mostly in relief. _Why is he so kind to me?_

“No. No tears.” He wipes them from my face. “Isn’t this a good thing?”

“I’m just relieved. Why are you being so kind to me?” I’m really confused.

“Oh, it may not be kindness.” Rai’s gaze wanders past me for a moment, resting on a point across the room. “I have been… impatient the past few days. I’m not a patient person. It seems waiting is not my strong suit.” He climbs down from the bed and grabs a couple items from the table.

Walking back to the bed, sitting beside me, he offers me a kuim, holding it to my mouth to feed me a bite. “Have a taste. I think these helped you quite a bit yesterday.” I open my eyes wide when I taste the fruit. _Gods, that is tasty._ The sweet and sour flavor spreads into my mouth—and it tingles deliciously, though the saliva glands in my mouth burn when they catch the sour flavor of the fruit.  I have always loved kuims, but this one is particularly delicious. 

He also pours a liquid into a glass and holds it to my lips, lifting my head gently from behind the pillow, to avoid making direct contact with my skin.

“Drink.” He isn’t asking. “This will help you relax.”

It smells like catnip, and I don’t want it. I try turning my face away, but he won’t let me. “Drink it. You’ll need it.” So I comply.

It’s fine. It isn’t delicious, but I drink it just the same. It will take some time to take effect. I am able to get it all down, and he finishes off the dregs of the glass. _Could he be nervous, too?_ He bends down to unlace his boots and slips them off before climbing onto the bed.

I take several deep breaths—and I notice I can smell him now. I didn’t realize it before, but his scent is extraordinarily powerful. It’s a clean, warm scent, surprisingly. At least for the “Ice Queen,” who should have a cool scent, but I keep those thoughts to myself. He smells strong, powerful, and _delicious_. Perhaps a little like honey? I look at his hair, which shimmers under the lamp. I have the urge to reach out and touch it, run my fingers through it, and so I do.

“Feeling a little better?” His voice resonates loudly in my ear, and the catnip makes it sounds a little strange. His breath tickles my fur, and I tilt my shoulder up slightly in response. It feels good.

“Yeah,” I answer, without looking up from my task of running my fingers through his hair. I’m looking for a knot, a strand of hair that’s out of place, a split end, anything, a single piece that is less than pristine. I can’t find a single one.

“Still getting shocks?” I realize he has been running his hands over my body—across my shoulders and down my spine to my tail—and the shocks have mellowed. It still feels pleasurable, but it isn’t as overwhelming as it was before. I notice my hands are still shaking, though, and just as I notice, I hear him say, “Your hands are shaking. Are you nervous? Don’t be afraid. This shouldn’t hurt. Not at all.”

With this comment, I feel him lick my ear, and he sucks my entire ear into his mouth. The resulting sounds that come out of me in response—well, I won't go into that. But I don’t even try to control them. He also grasps the base of my tail, which, I realize, is now _under_ the waistband of my underwear. He seems to be working them off my hips quite rapidly. But with control of my tail, he can control where my body goes, and it feels amazing.

My dick is already painfully hard—and I’d normally be embarrassed by this—but probably because of the catnip, I’m not really thinking about it. Instead, I grab two handfuls of his hair and hold tight. When he pulls my tail and tries to reposition me on the bed, I might have accidentally pulled his hair rather hard. 

But there are lots of ways he could have moved me around that do not involve pulling my tail. So I’m not _that_ sorry. I hear a hiss from his mouth, as he tilts his face toward mine, and I see his fangs are bared. I cannot deny the temptation. His lips look so full and juicy! I bring my face up to his and kiss him full on the mouth, interrupting his hissing, pulling my hands, still full of his hair, closer to me. I can hear him make a noise full of yearning and desperation. I _like_ that sound, and I want to hear more.

I draw my claws to help him out of his pants in a hurry.

“Ruthless,” his voice is breathless, low and husky. “Keep watch of those claws, little one,” he growls at me, suddenly pinning me beneath him on the bed, both my hands over my head. I realize my fangs are bared, in addition to my drawn claws, and my tail is fluffed out to its fullest. My pupils are probably dilated, however, as his is right now. I find that pale blue eye mesmerizing—its long white lashes drifting over his half-lidded eye, as he looks down at me. 

He is considering something, I can tell, and I hear a clicking sound above my ears. I notice he moves his hands down to my waistband to continue removing my underwear. But my hands remain pinned overhead.  
  
“Hey!” I complain. “Wait a minute! Just a second—“ _This isn’t right._ I want to touch him, too. I want to be able to feel his body. In fact, it isn’t that I want to touch his body—I _need_ to touch him. I _have_ to be able to touch his body. I cannot be restrained like this.

“Kittens who misbehave—pulling hair, baring fangs, drawing claws, and not following the rules—don’t have the right to use their hands themselves,” Rai looks at my face from between my legs. I can feel a blush rising up to my ears as he releases my erection from my underwear. “Ah, you’re excited to get started.” I see his long tongue come out of his mouth and teasingly give me a torturously long, slow lick, from the hilt to the tip. A sigh like I’ve never heard is released from the very core of my being.

“Noooo—aaahhhh,” I sigh, as my hips twitch and jerk. I can’t stand his teasing touches. I want to touch him, too. Is this something I can say out loud? Never. But the heat is burning me up, and my ears are on fire, and I see his eye glance up to them. 

“Nice and pink for me.” He smiles, lasciviously glancing back down at my erection.

“Y-you are t-talking about m-my ears, aren’t you?” I ask breathlessly. He just grins. “You are impossible.” And then I can’t help myself as the words come tumbling out. “I want to touch you, too—I _need_ to touch you, too. Please, _please_ , won’t you release me? I don’t wish to be restrained.”

“Sometimes, it’s your job just to sit back, relax, and _enjoy_.” Rai keeps his eye trained on me, in all my desperation, letting his tongue wander over my cock again—another long, slow stroke. It would be easy for him to take all of me into his mouth, I see, and it sends delightful shivers down my spine. I know he can feel me trembling, too. It’s infuriating.

“Please,” I implore him. “There’s something inside me that feels like it _needs_ to touch you. I don’t think you can possibly understand.” The begging in my voice sounds desperate at this point, but I really don’t care. My hips snap up after he loops his tongue around the tip of my cock, and he presses it into the slit. I close my eyes partway, enjoying the sensation, almost nauseous from desire, but I don’t want to miss his eye on me.

I’m suddenly aware that I’m not shying away from his gaze. _Why not?_ In any other situation, this would be too much. How can I be looking at him so directly when he is touching me like this, licking me like this? I don’t understand. Is it the catnip? The Siren-part of me that is finally starting to emerge? I’m baffled. I wonder if it’s too much, and perhaps I should try to calm myself, but I can’t even slow my breathing.

And then, I feel his hands against my tail—well, one is against my tail, the other is pressing against my hips, pressing them firmly against the bed.

“You, keep your hips against the bed. So _eager_. It surprises me. I like it—don’t worry—and don’t get shy. I won’t forget to take care of you. Just _be patient._ ” I hear purring and near growling coming from my body, my arms still raised overhead.

“Please,” I beg. “I want to put my arms around you.”

“Patience, Konoe.” Rai continues his ministrations on my body, stroking me with his hands as well as his mouth. I feel his hands on my balls, pulling them down slightly while his mouth comes down and envelopes my entire shaft.

I pull hard against the restraints, a rumbling, purring sigh comes from inside me—and _I want him_. I want this silver cat in front of me more than anything I’ve ever wanted. I’ve become something other than what I usually am— _and it’s frightening_ —and the frightened part of me is falling by the wayside by Rai’s use of restraints. If my arms weren’t restrained, I’d be much more aware of my feelings, of how powerful they are. But I’m distracted by the restraints, and how frustrated I am that I can’t put my arms around him, that I can’t touch his body, that I can’t touch the silky fur of his ears, the soft hair that is draping over my lower body, and that I can’t run my hands along the chiseled lines of his chest and abdomen and his body hovers over me.

I growl lowly in frustration, my fangs still bared, claws drawn—but this is mixed with the constant purring of my body as well.

“What did I _just_ tell you about patience?” Rai brings his head up close to mine and takes my lips firmly. I taste something slightly bitter in his mouth—it must be my own taste—I know I am dripping, and the thought that I can taste myself in his mouth turns me on even more. This comes as a slight shock—I should be disgusted, not turned on, shouldn't I? Shouldn’t I be mortified? I’m not at all. _I want this silver cat in front of me._ I want to touch him. And when he kisses my mouth, I bite him with fangs, catching his lips and tongue with my small, sharp fangs.

“Ruthless!” He pulls away, touching his lip. “Patience, young one.”  
  
“Let me go,” I beg again. “ _Please_. I can’t, I just can’t do this.” I’m nearing my limit. “I really—please, oh, _please_ , won’t you release me? I want to feel you in my arms.”

“ _Konoe_.” His voice sounds like silk in my ears. My body freezes when he says my name, and unfortunately, he notices my reaction. I’m shocked I let it show so much this time, and I cast my gaze down for a moment. “Just relax. I asked you to trust me.” I feel his hands against my ears again, and they feel cool. I close my eyes when I feel him stroking me. “You trust me, don’t you?”

“I—I do. I trust you.” I open my eyes, and then suddenly, I wrap my bare legs around his waist, with everything I’ve got. I may not have use of my arms, but I have my legs, and they are _powerful_. I feel a sharp intake of breath and I see shock register on his face. “I _only_ want to touch you. My body—it _needs_ to feel you on me. I want to feel you more. I’m not feeling enough of your skin. I need to touch you more. Please—release me!” 

He starts moving his hands against my bare skin, quickly, smoothly, running them up and down along my body, and that makes me arch back unexpectedly, out of my control. He actually makes my legs release his waist, in fact, when he runs his hands up both legs simultaneously, from my feet all the way to my tail.

“Just relax for a moment. Let me take my time, Konoe.”

The moment I let go, he sets me back on the bed, turning me over, so I’m facing down against the mattress. _What’s this? This is even worse!_ I feel panic rising now—but before I can panic, I hear his voice firmly whisper directly into my ear, “ _Konoe_. Just wait.”

His hand is resting on my ass, holding me down on the bed. I feel him moving—perhaps he’s taking off his clothes? And then he lies down on top of me—and it feels so good—just what I need. He is squashing me into the bed—his body on top of mine, skin to skin, naked skin against naked skin. I’m _completely_ overwhelmed by his scent. I feel his hair falling around me, over my shoulders, over my face, and I love it. He smells so good.

I let out a sigh—I expect it to sound relaxed, but it doesn’t. It sounds hungry and desperate for more. I feel his hands along my sides, tracing my smaller form beneath his, and I love how it feels. I let him know by releasing another sound. I mean to say I love it, but the only thing that comes out is, “ahhhh.”

I can feel his dick pressing against my ass. I know what is going to be happening next, and another part of my mind goes cold with fear. _There’s no way that is going to fit where that is supposed to fit. He is too big of a breed, first of all._ I can feel my body quivering underneath him—but it isn’t in fear. It’s in _anticipation_. Does my body know something I do not? I’m utterly confused. _How is this not going to be painful?_ I can’t think, and this is so confusing, but he just feels so good, _smells_ so good, right where he is, so I don’t push him away.

I turn my head and take a deep breath, taking in a lungful of his scent. He smells _amazing_. I have to do it again; I am compelled. After the third time, I can’t remember if I was afraid or why I was afraid, so I take in another deep breath. The scent feels like _home_ —it’s something different from sex. It’s _more_ than sex. It feels like _belonging_. It feels like a deep bond, which is so strange since we’ve only just met. But my heart says, _No. You met him a long, long time ago. And he’s been looking for you since then. You belong together. And you’ve found each other. This is right. It’s right that your first time is going to be with him, your soulmate, this cat who has had you on his mind for so many years, this cat who has been in your heart for so many years._

And I hear something snap in my head—it’s an audible sound to me. Now, I breathe freely, and I smile. I relax in my restraints and smile up at Rai. I suddenly understand that _he_ is the one who needs me restrained. I’m not exactly sure why. But it helps him, perhaps he feels more in control. And whatever helps him, I will do it without hesitation, and gladly.

Every time his face comes close to mine, I turn my head and reach out with my lips and tongue. I give in to the urge to kiss him. I want as much contact with him as possible. Every time I can get close to him with my body, it reaches out to him. I eagerly accept his fingers in my mouth. I suck on them with abandon. I feel him stroking my dick with his other hand, and I feel each finger of his as it wraps around me. I push my body back against his, trying to maximize the surface of our skin-to-skin contact.

Even restrained, my body reaches up to his. I push my hips back to his, and I don’t even think about how it might look. I feel damp fingers circling my entrance gently, as he pulls me up to my knees, biting my ear to get me to stay still (but I _can’t_ stay still). As soon as I feel his fingers there, I push my ass against his hand, forcing one inside of my body. I hear him gasp slightly, as it easily slides in, my insides gripping him, willing and eager, surrounding him with all the loving feelings I push into that area of my body.

Using my tail and my voice, I encourage him to add another finger, scissoring my insides apart, sending surprising waves of delight to this private, secret space no other person has ever touched before. In the back of my head (or maybe my heart), a voice tells me that it makes sense. _He’s touched my heart in places no one else has touched. Of_ course, _he should touch my body like that as well._

I don’t keep my voice quiet—I let him know what feels best—and shortly, he finds a specific, small space inside me that feels absolutely mind-blowing—almost like I’m looking over a cliff, seeing nothing but more desire and pleasure for thousands of feet below. It’s terrifying—but I approach fearlessly, looking over the edge to the drop below, ready to jump. I encourage him to let that third finger brush me there.

My sighs have increased to near screams of pleasure at this point, and my throat is hoarse, tears of pleasure pouring down my face, and I am not sure what else can be done to me at this point. I’m still on all fours—almost, at least, since my hands are still above my head attached to the bed—but my entire body is crouched low, my tail is fluffy and messy, undulating wildly, and I’m slick with sweat. 

Rai’s voice is beyond deep and husky—he can barely speak when I hear his voice. “Konoe, this is—are you ready?” The thought that he is as affected as I am only increases my passion.

“I—ah— _please_ —don’t make me wait—this is torture—“

My toes are curling, and I feel the warmth of a song starting in my chest. It’s started so late, I’m surprised to hear one at all. I’m not sure if I can understand the lyrics, but I think the gist is, “Take me. Take all of me. I want you. I need sex to breathe.” It’s incredible lewd. If I had heard the song in any other circumstance, I’m sure I would have gotten the wrong idea—well, in this case, the absolutely _right_ idea.

It briefly occurs to me that we’ve approached sex before and he’s turned me down. And I have a brief moment of panic. Because I _absolutely_ will not be able to handle it if we don’t actually go through with this. I will _not_ survive without sex. So I quickly make backup plans in case he refuses me.

I feel something incredibly hot and hard at my entrance—much bigger than Rai’s fingers—and he starts to enter me, _torturously_ slowly. I’m sure he doesn’t want to hurt me, but I am _out_ of patience. I’ve been _good_ so far, but I’m _desperate_ now. _I just want to feel him._ I’ve been _so good_ for him in these restraints! As soon as I feel his head of his cock has entered me fully, I ram my hips straight backward, impaling myself right onto his dick—and I’m instantly filled with him, leaving myself breathless in the process.

I can hear a noise come out from Rai that sounds amazing—something like I’ve never heard—it’s a shocked and stunned sound, mixed with a pleasured sigh, loud purr and almost a growl—and I will _never_ forget the sound.  
  
Now, for my body—I can’t move an inch right now, but I’ll be all right in a moment. Though I was expecting this, I am temporarily unable to breathe, so I take a moment to catch my breath. A flash of fear goes through my head that I might be sorry afterward, but it’s too late now.

He feels so good right here—like I was made for him. I could die happy now, I think. 

“Fuck—“ I hear another low growl from behind me. “What did you just do, stupid cat? Are you trying to hurt yourself?”  
  
“You just feel so good,” my voice sounds like it’s begging again. “I couldn’t wait. I didn’t _want_ to wait. Just _fuck me_. Don’t be gentle.”

“Excuse me?” As if he didn’t hear me correctly.

“I know you heard me,” I say again, my playful voice breathless and sighing. “Are you waiting for my song to change? It will in a minute, I’m sure. _Fuck me. Hard_. So I won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”

Then, as if I said the magic words, it seems restraints have fallen off the cat behind me, even if _I_ am the one physically restrained. He starts thrusting into me as if there were no tomorrow—not taking my first time into consideration— _exactly like I’d asked for_. It feels amazing. He changes his angle several times, looking for the spot he’d found with his fingers earlier, and within about five thrusts, he’s found it.

I’m crying out, loud, sobbing sighs, almost as though I’m in pain, but it's pure pleasure. I don’t hold myself back. I won’t last like this.

I’m shouting his name, shamelessly, “Rai! Harder! Oh gods, _Rai_!” Over and over—while the song from my body continues, and the melody does indeed change, reflecting the desire to have the shit fucked out of me like there’s no tomorrow.

I see stars every time he thrusts up, and I won't last. I can hear his breathing, rough and irregular, and his voice is coming out loud, too. I’ve never heard him lose it like this, not even above deck when I was on my knees with his dick in my mouth.

I so much want to put my hands on him, but my hands are restrained. Still. I allow this and allow him to take control of my pleasure—relaxing into his thrusts, meeting him with my hips, even.

“Oh, Rai—I’m going to come!”

I hear a husky voice in my ear, which is licked, and bitten hard. “Come, then. _Konoe_.”

 _Gods, he said my name again_ —and he grabs my dick, and lets me fuck his hand. I’m leaking so much already that it provides some amazing lube, and he squeezes his fingers even tighter. He grabs my tail and rubs the base, as though his hand is fucking my tail. My ass is being fucked, my dick is being fucked, my tail is being fucked, my ears are being fucked, my very mind is being fucked—I’m melting into the bed, and a desperate mewling sound comes out of my mouth.

“Konoe…” I hear his voice, sounding full of awe and lewd at the same time when he whispers my name into my ear. And that’s when I climax.

My mind turns to pure white—except the white fades to a vision. I see a kitten with blonde hair, white ears, and a white tail tipped with brown, laying his hands on the face of a much larger silver cat. The cat is in bad shape—his eye is newly injured, blood still fresh in the wound. The kitten is pressing his small hands against the injury. It’s a still vision, so I can’t tell what is happening, but it looks like I (if I am the small cat) am singing, and Rai is at peace.

My feelings overflow at this point and sighing, I scream, “Rai—“ and the shivering waves of pleasure overtake my body. I feel my insides clench around his dick, and I hear him making some pretty impressive sounds himself— _gods, he’s sexy when he gets noisy_. I suddenly understand the reasoning behind wanting to hear my voice! Rai comes right after me, and his voice stutters a little, and he rides out his climax in a few long slow strokes, and I feel a splash of warm liquid on my ass. I gasp when he withdraws himself from me—the feeling of him inside me felt so right.

I collapse onto the bed, my arms overhead and aching, and I feel something soft, maybe a towel, against my ass. I turn my head, and he is beside me, his face relaxed, all stress gone. He looks so much younger. I want to touch his face.

I _do_ feel much better afterward. My headache is gone, for sure. But I’m exhausted, and I’m quite sore, though not in the places I expect. Courteously, he remembers my hands and releases my wrists from the restraints. I turn to him immediately, and I pull my body close to him. _I want to feel him close to me._

I feel something is missing. I don’t know what it is, but I need to be close. _Should I say something?_ I am quiet for now and try to shut my eyes. I can feel Rai’s hand in my hair, touching only the tips of my ears.

“Holy shit.” Rai sighs. I look at his face, and he is looking down at me, curiously.

“Is something wrong?” I ask. I hope I didn’t do something wrong. It was my first time, after all. It’s probably a good thing I was restrained. The memory of the sounds I was making, how they echoed in the chamber, come back to me, and I feel the embarrassment returning in full force. I tuck my face against his chest so he won’t notice my blush.

“Not at _all,_ ” Rai says. “That was… _amazing_. You, _you_ are amazing. How are you feeling?” As he runs his fingers through my hair, I realize _that_ is what is missing. _I need him to groom me._

“Nice,” I say, surprisingly shyly. “I feel much better.” _Can I ask him to groom me?_

“I have to say, it was worth the wait.” He brushes hair out of my face. “I shouldn’t have been surprised, of course, but _you_ were worth the wait. You were worth every year I spent looking for you. I don’t regret a single thing, and I will never let you go.” He looks at me earnestly.

“Groom me?” I ask, timidly. “I think I need it. I can’t quite explain.”

“I’d be happy to.” He gently turns me around in his arms and starts on my ears. His tongue feels nice, so soothing and warm. He feels like _home_. I still smell his scent—it’s still as strong as it was earlier. And he still smells so good.

I want to drift off to sleep before I think too much about what just happened. Thinking about it makes me so embarrassed, and I can feel my ears pinking up.

Of course, the last words I hear from him before I drift off to sleep, are, "Ah, your ears. They are pink again."

I hear the amusement in his voice. I growl softly in response, trying to keep my claws from drawing.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rai's thoughts, his point of view, after their exchanging of heat, we shall say. 
> 
> Short, sweet, and fluffy.

Even once the small cat in my arms drifts off to sleep, I continue my gentle grooming of his ears and head. He is so completely relaxed—his chest rising and falling against mine, slowly, evenly. It seems our activities did indeed cool down the symptoms of heat quite effectively. I feel much better, too: my headache is gone, and the fake cold symptoms have diminished. I notice, however, that this Siren’s scent is just as strong as it was before, and that concerns me. I’ve read his symptoms can be more intense than normal cats, but I had no idea _how_ intense.

I also worry he may be sore when he wakes. Actually, he might not be able to walk. I was trying my best to be gentle, taking his first time into account. But that song—it loosened my resolve. When he spoke to me, right after impaling himself on me like he did, his words—it was like something broke inside my mind, and I became a beast. I wanted to devour him. Many of his own actions were terrifyingly forward as well. I’m glad I thought to restrain him. I hate to think of what might have happened if I hadn’t restrained him.

Actually, if I'm honest, I _don’t_ really hate the thought. _Not at all._ In fact, I may not use restraints next time, and we will see what happens. If he loses control, I will take drastic measures at that point. The thought of a next time sends blood rushing to my lower half, and I have to think of something else. _It hasn’t even been an hour. I need to let him rest!_

This is new for me. In the past, during mating season, I’ve gone back to my normal self after a good lay. But for some reason—maybe it’s his scent—lascivious thoughts are taking over my brain. My ears are burning (but not as sweetly as his ears do, of course) with the memory of those lewd, pleasured sighs, moans, and sobbing cries, all coming from him. They filled up the room and seemed to seek my very soul. They almost felt like his song. In fact, I wonder if _that’s_ why I like his voice so much. _It sounds like his song._

Bardo has warned me that sensitive cats may become ill after their first heat, especially males. The solution, rather than treating the fever, is thoroughly grooming them. It’s supposed to soothe them, make them feel attached and connected, which then calms the heat down. So I’ve planned to take the next few days easy as far as work is concerned, so I can focus my attention on this little guy.

Bardo has had a lot of input for me lately. I normally don’t take to it all that kindly, but I can’t help thinking most of his advice has been right. He knew about using catnip to calm the little one's symptoms down enough so he would enjoy himself. Such energy, such stress, such anxiety in this small kitten in my arms, but he looks so peaceful now. I wish he wouldn’t fight his gifts. It’s almost like a separate personality inhabits him. I wonder, what will he remember when he wakes? 

Shortly, we should be arriving in Midorijima for supplies and to drop off the current load. I have a meeting scheduled with the captain of a rival ship as well. It can’t be helped, I suppose. Captain Mink isn’t my favorite cat—much crueler than I am. At the last port, he’d left me a letter, requesting the meeting, saying he had something that would interest me. At this point, however, I have Konoe. So what could he possibly have that would interest me more than that? At the same time, it wouldn’t hurt to meet face to face. You never know when you may need an ally. Turning him down would have been foolish. 

I wonder, should I allow the kitten off the ship? I worry about him spending time with my crew, but it seems cruel to leave him locked up on board. How would he fare in an unknown city? If he stays by my side, it shouldn’t be an issue. I know this island practices the slave trade—as most port cities do—and that slaves are marked in similar ways I've marked him. I’m sure if he were with me, marked like he is, there wouldn’t be any problems.

But the way he is now—I was struck by his appearance when I entered my quarters—fur fluffed out the way it was, eyes hazy, pupils dilated, lips swollen, mouth salivating, tail whipping side to side—I wouldn’t allow another cat to see him in that state. He was oozing sensuality. And that scent? Gods. What havoc would his scent alone wreak on a city that size, if it's having this effect on my crew? However, as long as I take care of him between now and our stop, he should be all right.

As my tongue continues stroking his ears gently, my thoughts wander. How did this little cat manage to survive on his own for as long as he did? How is it that no one tried to kidnap him, enslave him, or even take him in as a friend? He _really_ must have kept to himself.

These thoughts remind me of something I read in one of my many books on Sirens. One suggested that his gifts allow him to disguise his presence with a song. Could that be why no one ever found him? I wonder if he can really hide using a song. And if he can, why were my men able to capture him so easily?

A small noise, a sweet purring sigh, comes from his body, tickling my ears and sending a shiver down my spine, making my tail fluff out. _See, another example!_ Usually, my symptoms would have been taken care of by our enthusiastic relations, but I can’t stop thinking about the experience. In fact, if he woke up right now, wanting to go another round, I’d easily be up for it.

This is a new experience. I feel a pain in my chest.

 _He was alone._ All those years, he was alone, from when he was five years old. That kitten who helped me, I could have taken him with me. He had to fight tooth and nail to survive, and that’s admirable. But I should have taken him along then.

Argh, regrets have no place in my life. What good are they? You can’t change the past. Like I always say, if you have time to mourn the past, look ahead and figure out how to face the future head-on. It’s what he did, how he survived. So why does my heart ache like this?

Another sound falls from his lips, and he starts squirming in my arms. Perhaps my grooming is beginning to annoy him, interrupting his sleep. I don’t stop, however. I want him to feel secure, and I want my scent on him. I want him to feel like he is mine. I want _others_ to understand that he is _mine_.

I feel a bubble of rage when I remember the two crew members standing outside my chambers, salivating over that incredible scent. I recognize that old saying, “what happens during mating season, stays in mating season.” But hormones are one thing, and this is _my_ ship. I’m their captain. I’m sure they heard my pronouncement, and my words are _final_. They had to know they were playing with fire. I think for these two, Midorijima will be their final destination. _If_ they can make it that far, that is.

Perhaps I should deal with those two now, while my little cat is asleep. I move my body away from his, as gently as possible, so as not to disturb him, and I hear a distressed moan. He squirms against the bed like he's searching for the warmth of my body. Again, I feel that strange pulling in my chest as I watch his movements. 

Did he sense I was getting up and resist? He couldn’t have the same feelings for me as I do for him, could he? And what exactly are my feelings? Do I want him as a possession? To use his gifts as a Siren? As something more? It doesn’t really matter, and it’s not worth thinking about—he’s here now, and that’s what matters. The thought that he might be _attached_ to me fills me with delight. Perhaps waiting for the heat  _was_ our best bet, and Bardo was actually right for once. I scoff inwardly.

I run my fingers along the side of his body, my hand coming to rest on the curve of his hip. His curves are almost hidden when he stands—though, in his last outfit, I could see everything, every line of his body. Lying on his side, this part of him—I run my hand along his side again, and he emits another adorable purring sigh—I love his shape. He's so soft.

I can’t help remembering how it felt to be inside of him—warm, welcoming, inviting—almost as if he… _No, what am I thinking? This is ridiculous. Cats don’t read other cats’ minds._ I try to stop my thoughts, but they keep going. That song, mixed with his own voice—I’ve never heard anything like it. Again, he was singing to _me_ , calling my name, calling something deep within my heart. (And when he actually _did_ call my name—just the memory makes me feel that ache in my chest again, and I take a deep breath. _What is this feeling?_ ) It was _beyond_ sexual. It was something else entirely—it was _power_. Did I witness another part of his awakening?

I have to smile because even though this cat is asleep, he’s got the power to keep me here, by his side, keep me from getting things done that need to be done. But I suppose, another few minutes shared with him will probably be worth the investment in the long haul.

I scoot all the way back into bed, pulling the blanket over us both. The minute I do, his legs snake around mine, twisting around them as if to restrain me and keep me in place. I feel his tail twist itself around my own as well. He pushes himself into my body, stretching himself out, so as much of our skin will touch as possible, matching his body to my form. He’s still wonderfully nude, his skin soft and smooth against mine. His arms come up to cover mine, small fingers lacing over the top of my larger ones, currently pressed flat against his chest, my right hand resting over his heart. I can feel his heartbeat pounding in his chest, and it slows as he relaxes against me, as he takes another gentle sigh.

Maybe it would be all right if I slept a little, only a few minutes. He feels so _right_ in my arms like this. 

I close my eye and drift off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, wow, so that was chapter 10. So these first ten chapters complete part 1 of the series, Siren of the Sea. You can read part two here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14262210 (or click on the Next Work button below).


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